Blurry
by MontyTheDog
Summary: When Deeks is reported dead after an attempted LAPD rescue mission gone wrong, Kensi can't move on- or shake the feeling that he's still out there, waiting for her to rescue him.
1. Chapter 1

**_Just a warning; this is a very quick introduction and probably won't be updated until Small List, my other WIP, is completed. This story will have CaKe, but more so a continuous underlying Densi theme. This is mostly being posted as a 'should I continue or not' and will probably be taken down if I decide not to continue it.  
Enjoy and please tell me if you want more!  
XOXO-  
Cierra_**

* * *

He's alive.

This is the first hope they've had in the past three months. The first sliver of anything resembling a lead. And now… What? There was no immediate action that could be taken. She knew that, and yet it wasn't something she was willing to except.

She stared back at the last fifteen months. A year and three months of hell. The guilt, the pain, everything. The memories came like a slap to her face, something that knocked the air out of her lungs, squeezed her windpipes. And now that they knew he was still out there, breathing, being tortured as they spoke, had a location, they were useless to him.

He was being held under conditions that were sealed under something much tighter than lock and key. One out of place car, one cop undercover with an alias dating back to birth and beyond, Deeks was dead. They needed an army to get him back, but at the same time they needed something as discreet as possible. With a security system even Eric couldn't crack, an unobvious attack to retrieve Deeks was nearly impossible.

"We know where he is, and you're saying we can't rescue him?! We can't just sit around and do nothing, Hetty! You know they're going to relocate him if they see that Eric has been hacking through their firewalls."

Callen stood off to the side, his arms folded across his chest. Everyone had been there for Kensi when Deeks was reported dead, but Callen even more so than the others. She could tell he thought of her as more than just a work colleague. More than a friend. And she hoped that he wouldn't side with Hetty for selfish reasons, because if they got Deeks back (and yes, it was a big if) he knew who she would choose. It had always been Deeks. Would always be Deeks.

"I agree, Ms. Blye. But this is a situation that should be handled with care and tedious precision. One wrong move and Mr. Deeks is dead." She took a step closer to Kensi and looked up at her with exhausted eyes. "This is personal, Ms. Blye."

Kensi clenched her jaw. Damn right it was personal. Had been since they'd took Deeks away from them, away from her.

* * *

_She was called into the office at four in the morning, less than six hours since he'd left her house. Other than Hetty, she'd been the first person to arrive at OSP, her mind scrambled._

_"Hetty, what is it?"_

_"A signal from Deeks' alias' phone. Agent in distress."_

_"Yeah, you told me that over the phone." She fidgeted with her hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt she was wearing. Looking down, she realized it was Deeks', the grey one that smelled like him and had LAPD in big block letters on the front. "Where?" Where did the signal come from? Where was he? Where was his body?_

_"San Ysidro. His car was found an hour ago."_

This is Dom all over again. _She found herself putting out a hand to support herself as she tried to keep from collapsing against the wall._

_"His cellphone was found lying beside the car. I sent our forensic team out to investigate further."_

_"Any signs of a struggle?" Kensi asked, swallowing. She watched as Hetty diverted eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning her gaze steadily to her field agent._

_"Three bullet holes. A lot of blood."_

_A beat of silence passed as Kensi closed her eyes, letting the information hit her full force. Suddenly her lungs ached and she urgently needed fresh air, the oxygen thick with despair in Ops no longer breathable. Hetty watched her with something close to scrutiny and pursed her lips._

_"You know I hate drawing conclusions-"_

_"Then don't." The last thing Kensi needed right now was Hetty, psychic tendencies and all, telling her she had a strong feeling Deeks was dead._

_But Hetty continued anyways. "I also don't want to falsely accuse you or Mr. Deeks of any wrongdoings, but I feel it is necessary. Have you had any contact with Mr. Deeks since he resumed his cover with the LAPD?"_

_Kensi felt her fingers find her temple as she focused on the pressure of the tips messaging the side of her forehead. She wasn't about to face the possibility that Deeks' current predicament was her fault. That his cover had been made as he'd left her house not even a day ago. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her._

_"Ms. Blye? This is serious."_

_"I know it is, Hetty."_

_"Then tell me."_

_Kensi inhaled deeply and stared past Hetty's shoulders, refusing to meet her eyes. "Deeks came to my house a few hours ago. Around eight. He stayed 'til about ten and left." She wasn't planning on going any further into detail than she absolutely needed to._

_As predicted, her short explanation wasn't enough for the elusive Henrietta Lange who was known for her reputation of getting to the bottom of situations. The small woman gazed up at her field agent, but despite the height difference it was obvious to tell which was superior dominance wise. "Was this the first time you two had broken protocol to see each other?" _

_"Yes." It wasn't a lie. That night had been the first time Kensi had seen Deeks for two months._

_"Was your relationship with him sexual?"_

_Kensi was taken aback by the abrupt question. She swallowed back her initial defensive response at Hetty's prying question and clenched her teeth as she tried not to let her anger, confusion, and culpability rise to her facial expression which she attempted to contain as neutral. "Is that really need to know information?" She was pleasantly surprised when she heard her tone echo in her ears, surprisingly not petulant._

_"Then tell me something that is!" Hetty demanded angrily. Kensi jumped at her sharp tone, thrown off. She'd heard Hetty frustrated before, but her riled response was unlike anything Kensi had heard coming from the small lady's mouth that was directed at her in particular as opposed to when she was addressing a suspect or an annoying assistant director._

_Seeming to recognize how out of character her outburst had been, Hetty quickly composed herself. "I'm sorry, Miss Blye. I'm just stressed. And worried."_

_Kensi nodded mutely, not trusting her voice to come out steady if she replied to Hetty's apology. Hetty, not one to dwell on the past no matter how recent it may be, moved on without missing a beat after Kensi's affirmation that she silently accepted her __atonement. "Tell me this: what was the nature of Mr. Deeks' visit? Professional or personal?"_

_"Personal," Kensi admitted with a sigh, defeat and wariness in her tone._

_"You do realize you will have to have a statement on my desk by the end of the week, don't you?" Hetty's tone was matter of fact and left no room for argument. One of the many things (and possibly one of the most useful) Kensi had learned while working at NCIS was that there was no arguing with Hetty. It was better to save your effort for something you had even a chance of winning._

_"Yes."_

_"Now let's find Mr. Deeks, shall we?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/n  
Okay, I lied. I updated.  
And I've had some comments about the CaKe element of this story. Trust me, I don't ship it. At all. I just figured that using G for what I needed him to be would make the story more personal.  
There's a little M rated content after the second break (not the one below the A/n, one down). But this story will definitely be mostly rated T.  
Love you guys!  
XOXO-  
Cierra_**

* * *

_There was nothing._

_Nothing._

_The truth in her thought shriveled a piece of her essence. If they couldn't even find one damned clue then she knew there was no hope. NCIS: able to solve virtually any and every case, except of course the one that meant the most to them, to her. _

_Every suspect from Deeks' undercover assignment was arrested and interrogated, but they all had rock solid alibis for the night of Deeks' disappearance. The long list of people who he had pissed off in the past seemed never ending and was growing longer the more digging they did. The chain of evidence was more or less a circle, no beginning, no end. Without a genesis there was no exodus._

_The crime scene, at first glance conspicuously messy, was in actuality meticulously free of any useful forensic evidence. The only affirmation it did give the wired NCIS team was like a dagger to Kensi's heart; almost all of the blood matched Deeks' blood type. _

_Kensi hadn't left headquarters since Deeks went missing. She was running on cold coffee that made her already anxious stomach squirm, protein bars, and restless cat naps that lasted two hours and were littered with nightmares. She'd been woken from a particularly gruesome dream by a concerned Callen, who had caught her hand in midair after she'd startled when he prodded her awake._

_It wasn't until Hetty had laid a wrinkled hand on her shoulder blade and demanded her in her most assertive tone to go home, get some sleep and a shower on the third day of obsessive worrying that Kensi had finally given in and pommeled out of Ops, disheartened and light headed. She'd collapsed into the shower and settled under her sheets for another tormented sleep that had her waking up in a cold sweat more than once. There was something about this situation, something that made Kensi unsure if Deeks was coming back or not. Her chest was heavy but not just with anxiety. She was also filled with something comparable to impending doom._

_Lying in bed that morning at three o'clock, Kensi remembered the night Deeks had visited her. Although it had only been a few days since she'd last seen him, with the ideology that she may never meet his eyes with hers again it felt as though she hadn't seen his baby blues for years._

* * *

_He'd knocked on her door at six, only a half hour after she'd returned to work that day. When she'd saw him she couldn't believe her eyes, his transformation over just a few months seemingly unfathomable. He was still Deeks, but at the same time, he wasn't. His cheek had a painful looking scar that had mostly faded but still prominent, his face was gaunt, and his body was thin. She noticed the way his hands shook when he reached for her shoulders, silencing the shocked squeak she was about to emit from her lips with a kiss that took Kensi's breath away. And as their lips were interlocked, her fingers in his golden hair that had somehow been salvaged after almost everything else about him had been altered, she had time to think, to comprehend what was going on. She was tasting him, something she'd dreamed about for months since he'd gotten assigned that damned undercover job with the LAPD. He was holding her, his previously bold body now attenuate and easy for her arms to reach around, but that didn't matter. Nothing did but him and her, her and him. Them. Together._

_She finally pulled back, gasping for air, but Deeks reached in for another kiss, and her words ended up muffled against his mouth. Somehow they had ended up inside her house, the door having been kicked closed behind him, her body pressed against the wall by his. "Why? Why are you here?"_

_"What?" he mumbled, his scruff tickling her collarbone as he directed his attention to sucking on her pulse. "Not- happy- to see me?"_

_She felt the humor bubble up inside of her, and she noticed how good it felt to laugh. Really laugh. That had been the first real smile that had tugged the corners of her lips into a smile since he'd left, laced with hysterical relief that he was back. Somehow, someway, he'd managed to come back to her._

_He lead her across the living room, breaking as little contact as possible between them, and pushed her gently against the couch, her body hitting the cushions with a soft thud. He supported his weight easily, nothing really left for him to prop up. Kensi pulled him down on top of her, felt him grin at her impatience. Somewhere along the way most of their clothes were discarded, ending up on the coffee table, the entertainment center, next to the couch, on the love seat. His fingers thrummed against her bra clasps, his thumb gliding against her spine as he tossed the undergarment behind him. His fingers danced across her underwear, and he fully intended on making her build as much anticipation as she could. Kensi, predictably, shoved his hands out of the way eagerly, and he laughed at her brusque actions as he peeled off his boxers and found his way back on top of her quickly, letting his arms angle himself above her. _

_He leaned down, his lips finding her breasts, teasing yet passionate as the air from his nostrils tickled her skin__. She threaded her fingers through his hair and moaned, sweat at the exhaustion of containing her release already making her breathless. She let him work his way down, wanting him to speed up but also take all of the time in the world. The longer he was here, loving her, the longer he was out of danger. And so many questions laid unanswered for them, but she couldn't allow her mind to pull away from the intimacy of Deeks over her body, staring down at her with lust and desire and yes, love, to worry about them._

_She loved him. He loved her. She was tired of putting up walls, tired of letting her past interfere so much with her future. And as she finally couldn't take it any longer, his tongue doing wicked things to her body, changing her in to something feminine and vulnerable that she so rarely allowed herself to be, she twined her legs around his hips, her intent evident. He was desperate for the feel of too, happily obliged to comply to her wants. To her needs._

_He watched as she shook and gasped as wave after wave of glorious oblivion passed over her, and she arched her body into his, letting him move back and forth with her, slick body pressed to slick body. He rocked into her, driving her crazy, pushing all of her resistance, stress, and worry away with each gentle thrust that slowly increased in intensity. Bright lights blinded her as she threw her head back and cried his name into the air that had become heated with ardor. _

_Time had no concept. An eternity was the equivalent to a minute. A second was a millennium. That was why when Deeks unraveled himself from Kensi, she couldn't tell how long they had clung to each other and let go of the aliases and precautions. He buried his head in the nape of her neck and let her stroke back his hair, twining it between her fingers subconsciously. _

_"Now talk," she whispered against his ear after lying in the afterglow of wonderful sex for a few moments, letting the pounding of her heart be the only sound that filled her ears._

_"Do I have to?"_

_"Yes. you do. You know you shouldn't have come, Deeks."_

_He grinned cheekily, ignoring the seriousness of her voice. Serious never had been one of his favorites. "I couldn't resist myself."_

_Kensi sighed, twisting herself around to wear they were both on their sides, facing each other, hands interlocked. She rested her head against her free hand which was propped up by her elbow and stared into his cerulean blue eyes, trying to memorize the pattern of his irises for future reference. "Deeks."_

_Now it was his turn to exhale loudly. He closed his eyes and swallowed, looked like he was trying to compose himself. Kensi's mind raced with scenarios- it wasn't like Deeks to act so apprehensive. She gripped at his bicep and nuzzled closer to his body, tangling his feet with hers. _

_"I just- I have this feeling, Kens."_

_Kensi rolled her eyes, trying to hide the gnaw of worry at her abdomen. Deeks' gut had been pretty trustworthy, and if his instincts were telling him that he was in danger, he might've been picking up on something subconsciously. "You broke protocol based on 'a feeling'? Deeks, you probably just ate a bad burrito."_

_He nodded, and when he spoke it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "You're right, Kens. It's probably nothing."_

_She picked up on the doubt in his tone and pushed away her boundaries, letting him see the nervousness that colored her face. "Have you felt like you've been watched? Are the targets acting different around you? You don't think you've been made, do you?"_

_Deeks smiled reassuringly, stroking back her hair. She felt his muscles flex underneath her hand. "Easy, Fern. Relax. I'm just being paranoid."_

_She gulped back her apprehension and nodded numbly, nudging her head against his chest. He held her tightly and spoke against her hair. "How's everything been at work? Horrible without me, right?"_

_Kensi considered retaliating with a snippy reply, but she still wasn't completely convinced that Deeks was safe and hadn't recovered from his distressed confession enough to tease him. "Boring."_

_They talked until a quarter 'til ten about anything and everything, Deeks telling her stories about the awful, entertaining, and unique people he'd met. He couldn't tell her anything need to know, and it drove her crazy not being able to know how much danger he was really in. At some point in the conversation she even reached up to touch his scar, and he'd said nothing, ignoring her pointedly inquiring gaze. _

_Kensi eventually dropped trying to force any information out of him, not wanting her reunion with her partner to be more like an interrogation. She drank in the tales of his beach adventures, his descriptions so vivid that she could see him surfing the awesome California waves on the back of her eyelids when she blinked. She missed watching him on his board, maneuvering with ease through the crystal blue ocean. I__n return to his stories, she told Deeks about how Nell and Eric had got engaged, the latest of OSP gossip, and a complete synopsis of the episodes he'd missed of their favorite TV show. They talked about stupid things like ghosts and science fiction, and even brushed intense topics like life and death. They quickly strayed away from the deeper portion of their mindless chatter before it led them into something that neither of them wanted to think about, much less discuss._

_At some point in their colloquy Deeks glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. "Damn. They're going to meet me at my house at ten thirty. I have to go."_

_She didn't ask who 'they' were. She doubted she could form one coherent word with the dread rising up and creating a painful ball in her throat. "Please don't go." The words were out before she could stop them. She knew that begging him to drop the assignment was selfish. She also didn't care. All she wanted was for him to stay with her, to be safe. _

_She watched as the turmoil racked through Deeks' brain. He looked away from her and grimaced, returning to face her with a forced smile. "Hey, don't worry about me. I think the case is wrapping up anyways."_

_"Deeks, I love-"_

_He stopped her with a finger to her lips, successfully silencing her proclamation. Kensi looked taken aback and disappointment, not even attempting to hide the raw hurt on her face. Deeks, seeing her reaction, hastily removed his hand from her mouth and took a deep breath before sweeping back her hair. "If anything happens to me, I don't want you to feel tied down because you said those words to me."_

If anything happens to him. _Kensi refused to let herself think about the possibility that this moment could be their last together, that they'd spent their final __few hours together talking idly as if everything was normal, completely ignoring the fact that they might never see each other again. She sensed that something about his impulse to see her wasn't just paranoia brought on by being undercover for too long. The finality that encased them seemed to weigh down on her chest, the lightness of seeing Deeks again long gone and replaced with something that reminded her of a shitty, anti-climatic conclusion to their partnership. _

_"Listen, if I don't come back, promise me something?"_

_Kensi chocked back her tears and turned her head to where she didn't have to look at him. He lightly grasped her jaw, guiding her face so he could look her in the eyes once again. "Promise me that you'll move on. Don't let me screw up your life."_

_She refused to agree to his promise and snuggled her face against him, trying to escape her wondering thoughts at his request. She honestly couldn't image herself with anyone but him for the rest of her life. Nobody would ever come anywhere close in comparison to Deeks. He was her paradise, and she was yet to find anyone closer to what she dreamed heaven was than him. _

_"I can't promise you that," Kensi admitted quietly, returning her gaze steadily to his face. "But when you come back, I'll be here waiting for you."_

_She watched as Deeks eyes softened, and her heart ached a bit when he kissed her lightly. "Do you mean that?"_

_"Have I ever lied to you before?" She snickered and shook her head before adding, "Actually, don't answer that."_

_Deeks laughed too and pulled himself off the couch, sliding into his clothes. Kensi practically ran to her bedroom to grab a bathrobe before returning to Deeks, who was waiting for her at the door. She stood on her tip toes and leaned into his kiss, pulling down his head as she opened her mouth to allow more access. He pulled back just enough to ask in a whisper, "Until we meet again?"_

_Kensi wiped at her eyes angrily and suppressed a sniffle as she nodded. "Until we meet again."_

_And he was gone._

* * *

_Kensi shook herself out of her reverie and stiffened under her sheets, reaching her hand to her forehead to run her fingers through dark, damp hair. She'd took a shower an hour ago to attempt to ease her mind a little, but it'd been useless and only succeeded in waking her up instead of the desired effect of bringing peace to her restless mind. _

_She tried to piece together the puzzle in her mind, but she was missing more pieces than she had. She sifted through his stories, searching for hidden messages, mentally sketched a timeline, tried to zoom in on each individual detail they'd attained. And then she would back up, attempt to see the big picture that was either extremely low quality or nonexistent._

_Growling in frustration, she turned around in her bed and screamed into her pillow, the sound muffled and agitated. Wherever Deeks was, he must've took half of her heart with him because of how incredibly empty she felt. It was different when he was undercover; she knew that he was relatively safe until informed otherwise. Now that she knew he was out there, possibly fatally injured or even already dead, it was as if her body could sense it. Everything around her seemed duller, and the only thing even relatively important left to focus on was to find Deeks._

_She didn't know how long she sat in bed before she finally succumbed to sleep. In her subconscious she could feel a nightmare creeping into her brain, corrupting her thoughts even more than they already were. Before anything too bad could happen inside of her worried mind, she heard her phone ring, saving her from another horrendous nap (if what she'd been experiencing could even be considered a 'nap')._

_She launched for her phone, nearly falling out of bed as she grasped for the cool surface. "Hello?" she asked frantically, already one hundred percent awake. _

_"We've got something."_


	3. Chapter 3

_"What? What is it? Did you find him?" Alive?_

_Hetty paced OSP, her face directed towards to huge monitor, her shoulders hunched slightly. "We have located Mr. Deeks, yes."_

_"Located?" She froze, trying to prepare herself mentally for the worst._

_"Alive."_

_She released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in and inhaled once more to calm herself. "What are we waiting for? Where is he?"_

_"The LAPD is handling it."_

_"LAPD?!" Kensi demanded, not believing her ears. "They're going to screw everything up, Hetty!"_

_"I am aware that Mr. Deeks is viewed as one of us, but this is their op. He is their undercover operative. I'm sorry, Ms. Blye. We just have to trust them to handle this situation."_

_Kensi balled her hands into fists, trying not to tremble with anger. This was not just another_ situation. _This_ situation was_ Deeks' life at hand. If t__he people who had kidnapped Deeks were smart enough to hide from a skilled federal agency then they sure as hell could out think a few cops. She attempted to even out her voice and stiffened, arching her shoulders minutely as she turned to Hetty. "Where is he?"_

_"Minutes from Tijuana. You won't be able to make it, even if I was to give you the address. I suggest you try to relax, Ms. Blye. We'll have Deeks back in no time."_

_"Relax!" she snapped, tired of putting up her flimsy facade of composition. "How am I supposed to relax?! How can you relax when your agent is out there?"_

_"Do I look relaxed?!" Hetty bellowed back, her voice trembling in a way Kensi had never heard. Kensi bowed her head, silently admonishing herself. It was selfish for her to act like Deeks' disappearance was only effecting her._

_"I'm sorry, Het-"_

_Hetty interrupted her crisply in a way that made it hard for Kensi to tell if she was forgiven or not. "We have video feed. Good job Ms. Jones and Mr. Beale."_

_She didn't wait for the two techs to reply, mumbling into her ear piece, "We have a visual on the suspects and Deeks. Proceed with caution."_

_Kensi allowed her eyes to widen as she stared at the man she had seen less than a week ago. His leg was bleeding profoundly, and his face was scraped. She swallowed back her worry and let the amenity that he was alive and relatively okay wash over her, making her heart flutter. Now all they had to do was make sure the LAPD didn't ruin the progress they had made._

_Not a split second after the thought had crossed her mind the camera flipped to an assortment of cops parading around the high-end, adobe style house. She watched them exchange hand signals, and just as they were about to bust through the doors a tremendous _boom!_ echoed through ops, pounding against her body, causing her knees to buckle and nearly crash to the ground. She watched debris and fire explode into the air, and before she could stop herself, she felt "Marty!" tumble out of her mouth, her breath becoming shallow._

_Her head spun as she watched Hetty's eyes water suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. She turned around, and when she looked back at her field agent she was seemingly more collected, her perfected camouflage pulled over her once again. But that was just on the surface. Underneath the wrinkles, the bespectacled eyes, the permanently pursed lips, a shadow of darkness seemed to fill all of her crevices, so like and unlike when they lost agent Renko. This time it was even more so personal. This time, Kensi knew neither she nor her boss would make it._

_Everything played in slow motion before Kensi's eyes, the world tilting beneath her. She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder belonging to either Callen or Sam, but she shrugged it off and stared at the smoldering ashes of the building in which her partner had been. She backed away from ops, denial floating through her soul in misty wisps, wafting around her vital organs, fogging her thoughts. _He can't be gone. He can't be gone. He can't be gone.

_"Status?" she heard someone demand, but the sound merely echoed off of her earlobes. "Status?!"_

_Then somebody else's defeated tone reverberated into her, making her heart ache. "No one could have survived that."_

_She turned around in one fluid motion and ran, cumbrously shoving past people. She couldn't hear anything from the outside world, not even in the chasms of her mind. The only sound was the thump of her beating heart hammering through the shell of her body._

_Kensi couldn't tell when or where she stopped, all she knew was that she was alone. She was alone and she was crying. She was crying and he was dead._

_Gone, not just on some undercover mission. Gone for good. _

The people who get the closest hurt the most.

_Because they all ended up putting her through agony one way or another. Her father, dead. She couldn't save Jack. Dom. Her partner before him. Now Deeks._

_She felt herself choke on a sob, reprimanded herself for being weak. Weak, weak, weak. Everyday she tried to make herself stronger. Everyday she was knocked down._

_She thought of his sweet smile, the feel of his tight, sun soaked skin underneath her fingers. The way their bodies fit together, like perfectly crafted puzzle pieces. He was the answer to all of her questions. With him, everything made since. Everything felt right. Without him the world was confusing, just another weapon to use against her already weakened demeanor._

_She forced herself from the ground, clawing at whatever she could to support her unstable body. She put on her favorite mask, one from her collection of many. The Monotone. _

_Clad in The Monotone, she somehow found herself at the liquor store, then back to her place. Everywhere in her house she saw him and them, on the couch, in her bedroom, watching movies, eating, laughing, being real. Then she would remind herself sourly,_ He's dead_._

* * *

_"Kensi!" He was starting to get worried. He never thought Kensi would be one to result to such drastic measures after a tragedy, but thinking of how much Deeks meant to her he was prompted to pound the door louder, nearly cracking the wood. "Kensi?"  
_

_Surprisingly the door was unlocked, and he padded across the messy floor of her house, trying to blatantly ignore the pictures she had up of Deeks and her, happy pictures. Something he feared she would never be again._

_He searched the house from head to toe, every room dimmed. It wasn't until he tentatively peaked through the door of her master bedroom that he saw light creeping from under the bathroom door. He approached the threshold that went from linoleum to tile and cleared his throat. "Kens, you decent?"_

_When he didn't receive a reply he felt his heart jump to his adam's apple, concern evoking his next action. "Okay, I'm coming in."_

_His breath hitched as he caught sight of his colleague, his friend. Her head had lolled against her shoulder, her hand hanging off of the bath tub, fingers inches away from an empty tequila bottle. "Kensi!" he yelled, sprinting to her limp form. He rushed to find her pulse, thanking anybody who was listening that he could feel a subtle thrum under his hand. "Kens!" he routed again, trying to see if she was completely out of it yet._

_Surprisingly enough, her head twitched in his general direction as if she was trying to force her head to him but couldn't make her neck comply to her orders. She mumbled something unintelligible, and he quickly took notice of another half empty _Reposado_ bottle, wondered if she'd been in the tub for the past two days. He grabbed a towel without another thought, scooping her up, trying to ignore the fact that his very naked, very attractive friend was currently flush against his body._

_"Kensi, can you hear me?"_

_She squinted against the bathroom light, her eyes not even opening a centimeter. "Deeks?" _

_He swallowed past the lump in his throat as just how damaged she really was sank in. Her voice had been hopeful, wavering slightly, like she really believed in her drunken stupor that he could be coming for her. "No, it's me, Callen." He felt her shake against him, realized she was burning from the alcohol coursing through her veins. "I'm taking you to the hospital. I think you might have alcohol poisoning."_

_She groaned, her intent obvious. Even in the state of mind she was in, there was no way in hell she was willingly going to the hospital. And there was no way in hell he was letting her slide without medical attention._

_He grabbed a robe from the bathroom door, shimmying it onto her body, trying not to shudder as he tied the soft fabric around her and adjusted it. He tried to coax her out of bed, but it took all of her effort to force her eyes to look into his. He told himself wearily that she probably couldn't stand up if she wanted to. G sighed, picking her up and carrying her to the car, her feeble attempts aimed at him to put her down not fazing him. After trying to sit her in the passenger's seat and failing, he gave up and laid her down in the backseat, her damp hair masking her face._

_Sometimes she would whimper, sometimes she would moan. He'd never heard her so distraught before, but he didn't have to ponder what was going on inside of her head for too long. He knew. She was hoping this was all some drunken nightmare, and then she would remember. Then it would hurt all over again._

_She wasn't the only one who was conflicted by the news of Deeks' death. He'd been a good guy, decent sense of humor, not to mention, as much as he hated to admit it, one damn good undercover operative. Whoever had made him must've been somebody __e__lite and attentive, not just another average pond in the lethal game of chess they were constantly playing. But if G could only take one thing away from his experience working with NCIS it would be to never walk away until the job was done. And justice was included in his description of 'the job'. If he didn't get to whatever bastard did this to their friend, their family, first, he knew Kensi would not rest until whoever murdered her partner was six feet down. And if she needed him (she never seemed to need anyone), he would be standing right beside her, making sure the job was completed. _

_He pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, maneuvering a noncompliant Kensi across the parking lot and getting a nurse over to look at her as he tried his best to fill out her paperwork, though he hardy knew a anything potentially useful about her medical history, much less anyone in her family's__. Something gnawed in the back of his mind, annoying and persistent, a little voice that chanted, "He would know. He would know."_

_He gave up after only a few minutes, leaving the incomplete paperwork on the plastic chair he'd been sitting in for the nurses to deal with. He strolled over to the main desk, asking a tired looking nurse about Kensi's predicament. The nurse didn't even look up from her computer as she replied. "She's fine. I think. Really too early to tell. We just have to get the alcohol out of her system. I don't know if she'll need extra oxygen or not. She looked pretty out of it."_

_"Okay. Thanks." _For nothing. _"Can I go back and see her?" _

_He could've swore he saw the nurse mutter something under her breath before glancing up, tired of his interruption. "Sure. Why not."_

_"Room number?"_

_She gritted her teeth, forcing a smile. "119."_

_He nodded his thanks, ignoring her noticeable exasperation. He trodded back until he rounded a corner and saw the room she'd been assigned, creeping the door open. A nurse rounded out of the door as he was about to come in, and he stopped her.  
_

_"You her husband?" the nurse asked, leaning against the white of the wall that was a dim grey under the light of the hospital. _

_"No... friend."_

_She frowned, curious. "Okay. Keep the lights down. Expect vomiting. Force her to drink something, preferably non alcoholic."_

_"Anything else I should know?"_

_"Are you her next of kin?"_

_"No, but-"_

_"Then no, sorry. I don't have the clearance." She adjusted her stethoscope, glancing back at Kensi through the gap between the door and its frame. "Is she okay? Emotionally? Alcohol is a depressant but she's just..." She paused, looking for the right word. Clasping her hands together uncomfortably and shrugging, she finally supplied the end of her sentence with, "broken."  
_

_"No, she's not okay." It was honest and raw. In the state Kensi was in, even if he told the nurse she was okay the medic would probably see right through his flimsy lie._

_"Think she'll need therapy?"_

_"I thought you were the doctor here."_

_She sighed, rolled her shoulders. "I'll keep an eye on her for tonight. Odds are she'll have a killer headache tomorrow and won't want to move. She should be okay to go home either tomorrow night or the next morning." Some doctor called for her from the front office, and the physician raised her eyes to meet Callen's. "We'll talk more about therapy tomorrow."_

_Calling after her retreating body, G yelled, "She conscious?"_

_The nurse didn't even turn around. "Why don't you ask her?"_


	4. Chapter 4

_His hand skimmed across her hipbone as she stretched to her full length underneath him, the warm sun casting a sleepy shadow over their forms. She smiled up at him, letting him trace his hands to her arms, pulling them above her head by her wrists, holding her firmly in place as he leaned down, kissing her lips, arching his body against hers. _

_"Kensi, you are perfect." _

_She intertwined her fingers with his, trying to contain her blush. "Wow. Okay." _

_He nibbled her earlobe slightly as he spoke directly in her ear, his breath making her shiver. "I'm serious. How did I get so lucky?" _

* * *

_She felt herself sob a little, her voice cracking as she asked helplessly, "Deeks?" His voice echoed in her ear still, _You are perfect. How did I get so lucky?

_She felt herself falter under somebody's touch, and she turned her head in the direction it came from, cringing as she felt a headache from hell throb behind her eyes. "No. It's me, it's G." _

_She felt her heart break a little, though even in her state (one in which she hadn't slept off all of the alcohol yet) she still knew it was a long shot. Because, oh yeah, Deeks was dead. _

_Her heart constricted as she closed her eyes, the dim light in the hospital still causing her head to pound, the sound mixing in with Deeks' voice, somewhere buried deep in a memory. _

_"Need a nurse?" _

_His voice was like a hammer against the back of her skull, and she curled around her stomach, trying to bite back nausea. She debated on what would cause her less pain, talking or shaking her head no. She settled for a tiny "I'm good," hoping he wouldn't ask her to repeat herself. She buried her head in the starchy pillow of the hospital, attempting to block even the tiniest sounds out. When her stomach couldn't contain itself any longer, she shot up, trying to ignore the pain it caused her heavy head, and was about to puke all over herself when Callen pulled her hair away from her face, holding a pink plastic kidney dish in front of her. Humiliated, Kensi mumbled a quiet "Thanks," and collapsed back onto the bed, blocking away the world as best she could. _

_Part of her liked the idea of having Callen around, just so she wasn't alone to her painful memories. Another more prominent side of her hated the idea of somebody she worked with seeing her so vulnerable and so unlike herself. It was embarrassing. _

_And yet there was no stopping it. She was usually good at shutting people out, but given her alcohol induced state and her scattered emotions, she didn't have a lot of fight left in her. And she was so, so tired of fighting._

* * *

_The next time she woke up she was in a cold sweat and her breath was labored. She'd been dreaming that she'd been beside Deeks when the building exploded, beside him but unable to save him. It was like she'd been in a bubble, able to see it all play out in front of her, able to scream his name, but unable to pull him to safety. _

_The worst of the hangover was gone now, nothing but a dull headache and a slight queasiness in her stomach. She almost startled when she raised her eyes to find Callen's steely blues watching her. _

_She tried to stop herself, she really did, but the question was tumbling out of her mouth before she could pull the words back in. "Is he really dead?" _

_And it was like watching the warehouse blow up all over again as he nodded silently, his eyes never leaving hers. She closed her eyes and bit back the tears that moistened the back of her eyelids, refusing to let them fall. "Body?" _

_"Unidentifiable. Working on the dental records." _

_She felt something close to hope, real hope, sprout inside of her, not the faux daydreams she'd been latching onto in her drunken oblivion. "Unidentified? So he could still be alive?" _

_"The body count matches up. The camera, the footage rolled until the building blew. He was still in there." He shook his head softly as her eyes fell, the twinkle gone from them. "I'm sorry." _

_She wanted to scream at him, ask him why this shit always happened to her, ask him why he couldn't just play along with her, let her grasp onto something that would keep her going. But she didn't. _

_"Is the body in the morgue?" _

_"Yeah, why?" _

_The idea of Deeks' body, charred to crisps, lying on a cold metal slate, made her stomach roil. She broke eye contact. "Just wondering." _

_"We were making a list of people to call." _

_Kensi felt her chest constrict a bit as she realized what a small list that would be. Deeks hardly had family, if he had any at all. Most of his relationships were exes that wanted him dead and criminals that wanted to do much worse than kill him. She realized that really, the only person she could think that would give a shit that he'd been brutally murdered while trying to keep the world a better place was Ray and his colleagues at NCIS. _

_"I can call Ray," Kensi's mouth decided out loud before her brain. _

_"Are you sure that's a good idea...?" _

_"I- I should be the one to call." She was trying to convince herself, and she was doing a damned good job of it, too. _

_Callen nodded, somewhat respectably. "Okay." _

_Kensi jittered in the bed, figuring she could mourn and mope at home as well as she could in some hospital bed. "Can I go home now?" _

_"Yea, I'll check with the nurses." _

_Kensi inhaled deeply when she was finally alone, trying and failing to think of everything and anything but Deeks. It was hard when he was her everything, was being the operative word. Glancing around the room, she busied herself with counting the tiles on the ceiling, memorizing patters on the door, stopping when her eyes landed on green jello. _You ate my jello.

_The force of the memory, seemingly a millennium ago, was like a blow to her chest. And with that one memory an encore of Deeks collided in front of her eyes, the moments they'd spent together flashing before her eyelids as she pulled them shut tightly. Little things like the way he had to put all of his focus into buttoning his shirt but could single-handedly undo her bra clasp. The way he looked when he smiled, how it started deep in his eyes, how it pulled up the corners of his mustached lips before spiraling throughout the rest of the pools of blue and green. The taste of salt on his lip as he exited the ocean, his body wet and cool underneath her palms- _

_"Kens?" _

_"Hmm?" _

_"You okay? You just totally zoned out on me." _

No I'm not okay, dammit._ "Yeah, fine. You ready?" _

* * *

_If it hadn't been nearly ten thirty at night when they'd left, Kensi would've insisted going to the morgue, even though she questioned her ability to be able to handle anything like that. She smiled and thanked Callen, genuinely thankful to have a friend like him. When he lingered at her door on his way out, she cleared her throat. "Anything else?" _

_"No, it's just... take care of yourself, Kens. We're all worried about you; Sam, Eric, Nell, Hetty... me." _

_She tried her damnedest to make her forced smile reassuring. "I'm fine." _

_She wondered if G saw right through it. She knew Deeks would've. _

_"You don't have to come into work tomorrow." _

_"Yea, I do." She had to be there, away from just herself and her memories. She had to find the bastard that did this to her partner. She refused to stop until she did. _

_Something seemed to shift in Callen's eyes as he nodded. "Okay. See you around." _

_She closed the door, dead bolting it before making sure all of her windows were sealed tightly and the blinds were drawn. She sat down with her father's riffle on the floor (the couch held too many memories) and started the tedious process of cleaning it. Cleaning her Dad's gun was her preferred method of stress relief; it had got her through numerous tough cases, the death of Dom... Hell, even when Jack left her it could calm her down. But not that night. _

_Giving up, her mind whirling, she threw the cleaning supplies on the table, running a hand through her hair. All she could think about was killing the son of a bitch who had shamelessly murdered her partner, but dying was a mercy she didn't feel like granting. No, when she met the asshole that did that to Deeks, he wouldn't have the relief of death. He would suffer, and when she did kill him, it would be slow and excruciating. _

_Snapping out of her bloodlust with a start, she realized what she had been fantasizing about. She paused and considered if what she was doing was really that wrong, considering the circumstances. And, long story short, she didn't really care if it was 'that wrong' or not. There was only one thing she cared about now that he was gone: revenge._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/n Wow, thanks so much for all the reviews! No clue why ya'll like it so much, I didn't even expect this to get five reviews!  
Thanks to Tam for the proof! You're amazing, girl :D!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**_

* * *

_Kensi caught herself staring at the counter from her place on the floor, her sleep deprived eyes locked on the marble of her island. She remembered sitting on it, having Deeks stand between her legs and play "Guess what I just fed you." She watched herself laugh and smear peanut butter on his face, grinned sadly as he playfully shoved ice cream down the mirage of her former, happier self's throat. _

_She'd always been her happiest around him. Always. Even if she was having a seemingly fun time, it couldn't begin to compare to the experiences she had with Deeks._

_It was like she'd had a little taste of paradise, a sample. Just a tiny little piece of perfect, and right when she began to crave more it was ripped away from her. _

_Tearing her eyes away from the kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the wall, waiting for it to say it was time for work. Or time for her to go to work and have a horrible explanation for why she was there earlier than necessary. Three thirty. _

_She groaned internally, rolling onto her stomach, lying her cheek against the rough carpet. She had this homesickness, the emptiness in her gut that wouldn't go away. Something tinged with guilt and hurt and betrayal and grief. _

_She told herself that she could technically get dressed, get coffee and arrive at OSP at some time that was nearly acceptable but found herself realizing she really didn't want to move. She was perfectly content with lying on the floor, being depressed. Somehow she managed to drag herself into the shower, not bothering to make the water warm. The cold felt good. The prospect of the comfort a warm shower would give her wasn't a welcome thought, seemingly foreign. _

_She did her best to ignore the memories, the steamy and the playful, that flashed into her mind of Deeks and herself in the shower, failing miserably. By the time she was done she couldn't tell if she was crying or if it was only the water from the shower. She didn't care to find out. _

_(Barely) functioning in public was strange. The world, miraculously, had continued to spin on its axis. She had a hateful urge to shake a random passerby by the shoulders and scream, "What the hell is wrong with you?! It's not okay to be okay!" but she suppressed it, partially because she saw how unreasonable it would be, mostly because she was exhausted._

_Maybe if Deeks was there he'd talk her into getting a double chocolate raspberry frappuccino and an orange cranberry muffin. But she was not in the mood for anything sweet or solid. She approached the weary eyed barista who was obviously wondering who in the hell would willingly come to a coffee shop at five in the morning, but she wisely kept her mouth shut as Kensi quietly made her order, her voice hoarse from either crying or tiredness. "Black, triple shot of espresso."_

_"Three shots? Is that even drinkable?"  
_

_"Guess I'll find out," Kensi answered dryly, not in the mood for socializing at all. She handed a ten dollar bill the waitress even though her order didn't even cost two and a half dollars, telling her to keep the change and quickly exiting the __café. She sped across the relatively empty highway until she arrived at her work, having to mentally remind herself not to park in Deeks' spot from where they'd carpooled so much together in the past_. If they took her car, which they usually did, they parked in his spot and vice versa.

_She didn't linger in the parking lot, nearly tripping over a trashcan as she darted into the building. Why she needed to be near work so badly, she had no idea. _

_The building was dark and empty, the usually crowded hallways bare. She walked around in circles, automatically hating the starkness of ops. It finalized the shittiness of how she imagined the rest of her life: lightless, gloomy and lonesome. _

_She tentatively sat at her desk, her eyes locking on Deeks'. Everything in the damned building reminded her of Deeks. Hell, everything in the whole damned world reminded her of Deeks. She angrily slammed the picture of the two of them laughing together face down on her desk, hearing the shattering of glass. She cringed at the noise._

_She didn't feel like Kensi Bad Ass Blye. She didn't_ feel. _She was nothing more than layers. Layers of anger, layers of denial, layers of pain. She hated it so, so much. _

_Then she remembered. She had to call Ray. The sooner she got it over with, the better. _

_Pushing the reminder that it was 5:30 in the morning to the back of her mind, she looked up Ray's number and dialed, trying to turn off her feelings long enough to make the phone call. "Hello?" a groggy voice answered._

_"Is this Ray?"_

_"Yea, who is this?"_

_"It's, uh, Kensi Blye. You might not remember me, I work at NCIS."_

_She heard him lighten up a bit over the receiver, recognition tinging his voice. "Hey, Wikipedia! I remember you. You do realize it's five in the morning, right?"_

_"Yea, sorry about that-"_

_"Sorry, one sec," Ray interrupted. She could hear little feet pattering in the background, and Ray saying, "Go back to sleep, Marty. It was just my phone." When he returned, he chuckled a little. "Sorry, that was my son. Better not tell Marty I named my kid after him. Wouldn't be good for his ego."_

_She realized under normal circumstances this would be where she laughed. But the thought of a little boy out there branded with her partner's name, a man he would never have the opportunity to meet, broke her heart. She swallowed, hating what she had to tell Ray. _

_"Why'd you call again?" he asked, curious, unaware of her impending dread. _

_Kensi bit her lip, hiccuping over her sobs as she held the phone firmly to her ear, trying to stabilize her trembling hand. "I just- Uh... I hate to tell you this, but Deeks was killed on the job a few days ago..."_

_She could almost feel the tension as Ray's voice shook slightly. "Oh my... Oh my God. Oh my God. What- what happened?" He sounded suddenly weak, and she could hear what sounded like the legs of a chair scrape against a floor and a thump as he presumably sat down._

_"He... he..." she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She couldn't stand talking about it, thinking about it. "He was in a building. It exploded."_

_The shock was fresh in his voice, mixing with immediate furry. "Who did this? I swear to God if you don't kill the bastard who did this, I will."_

_Kensi felt the rage build inside her body as she gritted her teeth. "You won't have to worry about that. I definitely have it under control."_

_The man sounded so hurt, so broken. It tore at something deep in Kensi's soul. "Just get them. Please. Promise me."_

_"I promise," Kensi said honestly, fully intending to keep her vow._

_"I'm so sorry, Kensi."_

_Kensi let her eyes find Deeks' desk again, a lump forming in her throat. "Yeah, me too."_

_She heard the line disconnect, and it took a second to tell herself to put her phone back in her pocket, her hand hanging limply by her ear with her cell. She almost jumped when she heard Hetty's voice behind her. Almost._

_"Those calls are never easy."_

_She didn't reply, didn't even turn around. "Need to talk, Ms. Blye?"_

_"No, I don't."_

_"You know where to find me."_

_Kensi buried her face in her hands, wiping her eyes and sniffling. She stood up, leading herself to Deeks' desk which felt oddly like forbidden territory. Many times she had wondered what he kept stashed away in there, and she knew that the desk would eventually have to be cleared out anyways. Cautiously, as if the drawer was rigged, she eased his desk open, feeling a small grin creep onto her lips._

_Twinkies. Of course he had a whole damn drawer dedicated to Twinkies. The thing was, he didn't even like Twinkies. They were solely dedicated to her. A good chunk of his desk to make her happy. _

_The next one was filled to the brim with organized, orderly files and papers, all in their correct spots. She used to swear Deeks and his OCD would be the death of her. _Guess I don't have to worry about that anymore._ Kensi's heart caught a little at her thought, and she quickly slammed the drawer shut, opening the next one without hesitation._

_There, lying alone in the midst of the final drawer of his desk, was a small black box._


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks Alias. You da bomb gurl.  
And thanks to my lovely reviewers. Sorry this update is short, but the shorter the sooner the story's updated. Enjoy. Or cry. You know, whatever floats your boat.  
CALLING ALL EDITORS. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to have a permanent proof reader. If you have a tumblr I'll promo you, you get to read the updates before anyone, and I would love you unconditionally forever. Just review or PM me if you're interested! ::))  
XOXO-  
Cierra**

* * *

Oh my God. No, no, no, no. _She sank into his chair, her eyes never leaving the box, afraid to pick it up. That could not be what she thought it was._

_She bit her lip hard, embracing the pain. _Come on, Kensi. Get it together._ Taking a deep breath that was meant to be stabilizing but really left her more breathless than she started out with, Kensi extended a shuddering hand towards the small, relatively inconspicuous box. Well, inconspicuous for somebody who didn't have prior experience with little black boxes exactly like the one in front of her._

_She tasted something metallic on her tongue, but she didn't bother to stop biting further into her lip, trying to hold back her tears. She gradually eased the box open, watching as the lamp on his desk __immediately emitted twinkles upon the inside of the dark cube. She nearly groaned as she pulled back the top half of the box, felt a tear escape as the ring, her ring, was revealed completely._

_It took her breath away, it really did. So much more beautiful and thoughtful then the one that Jack had proposed with all those years ago. This one was silver with a strap of tiny diamonds intertwined around a white gold band, which led to one moderately sized diamond in the middle. It was different from any ring she'd ever seen before, the twist of the sculpted silver colored band something that made it its own. Unable to refrain herself, she slipped it on._

_How he'd managed to guess her exact ring size so accurately she would never have the opportunity to know. The ring looked even more fantastic on her left hand's ring finger than it did in its container. She felt her heart skip a beat as she saw what could've, would've, should've been flash before her eyes in a split second. Her in a white gown being lead down the isle to an expectant Deeks. Her with a bump in her stomach, Deeks kissing her belly button. Deeks carrying a little boy with brown hair on his back, one of her hands in Deeks', the other wrapped around a blond girl's tiny fingers. Her future life that had been so close and held so much potential less than a week ago she could almost taste it torn away from her in less than a heartbeat. _

_She felt her hand clasp her mouth as her shoulders shook with sobs, her cheeks becoming damp. She couldn't believe it. He'd wanted to propose... to her. Would she have said yes eventually? Of course; maybe she would've had to sleep on it, but she knew somewhere deep down he was _the_ one. She couldn't see herself ever being intimate with anyone but him for the rest of her life. And now that he was gone she had no clue where it left her in terms of her future. Because without him, she wondered if she'd ever be able to feel anything again, much less love._

_They'd took things tantalizingly slow in their relationship, both terrified that they would break the fragile platform of their "thing" that they'd finally so cautiously acted on. Hell, they hadn't even said "I love you" yet and they'd been together for a year. But they really didn't have to tell each other. It was so obvious, to them, to the people that surrounded them. It was no secret._

_Her heart shattered as she realized she would never feel the satisfaction of hearing him tell her that he loved her, that she would never be able to look him in the eyes and basically lay her heart on a silver platter for him to either take or decline with three simple words._

_She felt the presence of somebody approaching, and she looked up quickly, slightly relieved it wasn't Hetty or Callen because she didn't know how to explain what she'd just discovered to either of them. What she did see was like a blow to her already depressed aura. _

_She obviously hadn't been the only one effected by Deeks' death. In front of her was an exhausted looking Nell who looked like she'd either been up all night or crying for hours. She had bags under her sad hazel eyes, and her face could only be described as grief stricken with the puffy pinkness resting above her cheek bones and the tear tracks that scarred her face._

_Nell stood still for a moment, frozen at the sight of her colleague, her friend, so devastated. If Nell looked as bad as she did, Kensi could only imagine how she must appear to the rest of the world. _

_Kensi lifted her eyes, the moist of her eyelashes almost too much for her already heavy eyelids to handle. Weakly, she lifted her hand, displaying her ring. "He was- he was going to propose," she cried._

_It took all of three seconds for Nell's face to change from relatively stable to a ruined mess of tears and sadness. She slowly made her way over to Kensi, helping her stand up and engulfing her in a hug, something Kensi believed that Nell needed as much as she did. She buried her face in her friend's shoulder, sniffling and sobbing and mourning until she felt as though she didn't have any tears left to cry._

_"Kensi..." Nell spluttered against her shirt. "Kensi, I am so, so sorry."_

_Kensi nodded, seemingly unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a word._

_"We're going to find whoever did this. You know that, right?" Again, Kensi shook her head up and down. "Whatever you need from me, anything, I am right here."_

_"Thank you," Kensi finally managed to mumble._

_"Come on, Kens. Let's get the bastard."_

_She let Nell lead her to ops but stopped at the stairs. "Nell, after work today..." God, it was hard for her to ask.__ "I want to see his body. I don't know- I don't know if I can do it alone."_

_Nell seemed to tense a little at the prospect of what she was asking of her, but she nodded anyways, even though it was slightly delayed. "Okay. Under one condition."_

_"Anything." _

_"Afterwards, can we get some beers? I think I need one. Or five."_

_Kensi, remembering her last experience with alcohol, considered declining, but then she realized that after seeing Deeks' body, getting drunk might be exactly what she would need. "Okay."_


	7. Chapter 7

_"It's not possible for there to just be nothing. His body, for one. When are we going to get his dental records?"_

_"There are none," Eric supplied tiredly, rubbing the creases out of his forehead. "Teeth were demolished by a piece of concrete that landed on his face during the explosion."_

_Kensi tried not to grimace at the description, swallowing before continuing persistently. "Doesn't that seem a little too coincidental? The one means of identification we have, gone? For all we know someone could've staged a different body, shattered their teeth, set off a bomb-"_

_"And what?" Callen countered, interrupting. "Dragged Deeks, their captive, out to save him? It just doesn't add up, Kensi." He saw her open her mouth to argue and spoke again before she could. "If they have him for leverage, don't you think we would've gotten a call by now?"_

_She opened her mouth again, but this time Sam's voice, soft and remorseful, cut her off. "The body count adds up. The video was rolling right until the explosion went off."_

_"Are you sure the person in the video was Deeks? Was the quality bad? Had it been recorded ahead of time?"_

_"It's a little fuzzy but I'm ninety nine point nine percent positive it's Deeks. We got a hit in facial rec." Something dark passed over Eric's face and he shook his head slightly as if to shake it away. "I've watched it again and again. Slow motion. Fast forwarded. I'm as sure as I can be."_

_Kensi felt her heart fall to her stomach as she realized what Eric had been doing. He'd had to endure sitting through hours and hours of watching Deeks die in the explosion over and over. She was about to approach him and offer some comfort, but Nell beat her to the chase, gripping his arm and giving him a little shake. Eric dropped his eyes, taking off his glasses and placing a hand in his palm momentarily._

_"Maybe it's time we start looking for who did this to him rather than if he's still alive or not," Hetty suggested, her voice sharp and hurt._

_Denial was something they were all familiar with, but this first hand display from Kensi was something much more severe. She curled her hands into fists, an irrational side wondering if it would really be all that much for her team to humor her, let her believe there was still a chance he was coming back to her._

_She felt a hand on her elbow and unclenched her hands, turning her head the opposite direction the contact was coming from. She knew who it was already. "Kensi..."_

_"Callen," she replied automatically, trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt._

_"You can go home if you need to."_

_Kensi snapped her head his way, trying to contain her anger because she knew he was just trying to do what he felt was right for her. "No way in hell."_

_"Then let's get to work."_

_"Where do we even start?" Kensi couldn't help but already feel defeated, which was strange because she was fueled by fury. She felt so damn angry. Her world was nothing more than depression, betrayal, hurt, and an overwhelming underlay of indescribable rage at anyone and everyone._

_"Nell, start looking deeper into his cover. Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen, start making a list of old enemies. Eric, take a breather." Eric opened his mouth to object, but Hetty continued sternly before he could say anything, "That's not optional."_

_"Ms. Blye? A word?"_

_Kensi had been dreading this moment since when she'd snapped at Hetty after Deeks died. She nodded silently, letting Hetty lead her outside of ops. "I expect a detailed report on my desk by the end of today. Anything, even seemingly meaningless or embarrassingly intimate, right it down. Focus on the last night you two were together."_

_Kensi nodded, about to walk away when Hetty stopped her with a gentle hand placed on hers. "My condolences, dear. I cannot imagine what you're feeling right now."_

_Kensi just dropped her eyes, her anger simmering down and replaced with sorrow as if freezing water had been poured over her. "I don't know how to... cope. With all of this. Everything." She felt something equivalent to fear as she slowly raised her gaze to look at Hetty. "How? How am I expected to get through this?"_

_"Just keep on going, Kensi. Never ever stop."_

* * *

_After no leads or shrapnels of anything even resembling evidence was unearthed, a possibly even more-so disheartened Kensi Blye trudged into the morgue, Nell by her side. She asked the medical examiner to see his body, her voice barely audible as Nell gripped at her forearm. The ME showed her which body bag was Deeks, his departing words before he exited being, "It's pretty... It's pretty gruesome. A large piece of debris landed on his face, and his corpse was burnt beyond recognition..."_

_Kensi gulped, her head nodding in response mechanically. She blurted out her question so quickly she couldn't tell if her voice shook or not, though she'd been aiming for it to be relatively stable. "Did it hurt him?"_

_"No. It was quick."_

_There was a small bit of relief at the revelation that he didn't have to suffer. Kensi allowed herself to release a breath, quickly pulling in another one as the medical examiner left the room._

_"You don't have to do this, Kensi," Nell told her, her voice barely above a whisper._

_"I need to see him."_

_Nell groaned, buying her head in Kensi's shoulder. "Just get it over with."_

_Kensi did her best to imagine the Deeks that she knew, the Deeks with shining gold hair and twinkling ocean eyes, the Deeks whose smile could light up the whole of Los Angeles, the Deeks that he would've wanted her to remember. She laid her hand where the top of his head was on the bag, stroking it gently with her thumb, unzipping the body bag before she could change her mind._

_She gasped at what she saw, tears quickly welling in her eyes. "Oh my God." His face was busted in, his mouth toothless. No eyes, no hair. No skin. Just black and red and blistered and burnt..._

_"Come on, Kensi. Come on." Nell towed her outside of the room, having to all but drag her into the parking lot._

_"Marty!"_

_"It's okay, Kensi." But her voice was shaking too, tears tracking down her cheeks in a steady flow as she let Kensi sink to her bottom against the morgue's brick wall. She joined her friend, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and letting her sob against her shirt._

* * *

_"No, Nell, you're not listening here- that wasn't Marty. It couldn't've been."_

_Maybe a sober Nell would've shot her down immediately and maybe a sober Kensi wouldn't have brought it up in the first place, but considering both of the two were inebriated, they could both listen to each other for a minute or two without dismissing their ideas (which were mostly built on a platform of denial and naïve hope)._

_So, based on their sobriety (or lack thereof), Nell lolled her head in a alcohol induced nod. "Why couldn't've it been him?"_

_"Because my stomach," she pointed to her heart, not her abdomen, "'Cause my stomach..." she trailed off. "I just- I have this feeling. Like- what do you call it- one of them gut feelings, that's it."_

_"Gut feeling. Hmm."_

_"And you know, the story doesn't really add up anyways. What are the odds that his teeth got shattered and burned and stuff? Like astro-a-nomical. Astronomical, right?" She stumbled over the bigger word at first, but continued on without missing a beat, stubbornly persistent. "It could be a personal connection so they're not holding him for ran- what's that word?" She paused for a second, raising her glassy eyes up as she thought. "Money. I mean, they could just have him held captive."_

_"Yep."_

_"He's got to be just being held captive, right?"_

_"You're right."_

_"Just... held... captive."_

_She felt herself start to slip __in her drunken demeanor, gripping onto the bar. "He has to come back to me. He couldn't've left. He wouldn't do that."_

_Nell didn't offer any further agreement, just gently patted her back. "Let's go home, Kensi."_


	8. Chapter 8

_She violently thrashed awake, a cold sheen of slick sweat covering her exhausted body. The first couple of weeks after his disappearance she could handle the limited sleep, but now, nearing three weeks since he'd been reported dead, fatigued was an understatement._

_The nightmares were macabre and grisly, becoming increasingly harder to deal with each day that passed with no new leads. She tried to shake the images of his body out of her mind, but she couldn't. On a list of every idiotic thing she'd ever done in her life, opening that body bag was definitely at the top of her list._

_She waited for the nausea and initial terror to wear off, but when it didn't, she started to panic. The world drifted away from her eyes and her breathing intensified, so much so that she couldn't even catch one decent breath._

_Gripping at what she suspected was the nightstand, she tried desperately to find the lamp, to stop the dark from closing in around her. When she couldn't reach it, she collapsed onto the bed, unwillingly letting the images of his marred body float into her eyesight, starting in her peripheral and inching their way upwards, til all she could see was his face staring up at her, lifeless and burnt._

_She watched him explode in the warehouse again and again, something dark possessing her brain to torture her with the footage over and over, like the replay button was broken and couldn't be stopped._

_She watched his pretty blue eyes shift to the eyeless corpse of her former friend, partner, lover. Her everything._

_Tossing onto her side she clawed at her windpipes, trying desperately to get them to work. When they didn't, she tried to scream, but her breath caught in her chest, suffocating her. She reached for her engagement ring, her last resort, clutching it close._

_Finally, after waves and waves of panic, she gasped as she inhaled a full gulp of air, collapsing against the mattress. She clicked on the lamp, her first order of business, and then curled around a pillow, trying to stop her tears._

_She missed him so much. So, so much and it hadn't even been a month yet. She had a hell of a hard time in front of her, that was for sure._

_She subconsciously toyed with her ring, playing with the diamond that twinkled easily under the dim light of the lamp. It kind of reminded her of how his eyes used to shine in the sun when he surfed, the blue of his irises reflecting off of the blue of the ocean._

_She slinked under the covers, needing the comfort that the blankets provided for her, craving sleep but also fearing it with a passion. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, like it was trying to crush her lungs, and she scrambled out of bed, her mind made up in an instant. Grabbing only his sweatshirt and her key ring she ran out to the car, taking in a loud inhalation of oxygen as soon as she exited her house._

_She knew exactly where she was headed, but she wondered if it was the right decision for her to make. It could either bring her a strange, if not consolatory, feeling or could be like seeing his body, and do the exact opposite for her already weakened facades. She considered turning around more than once, but her need to visit the place he called his own was overwhelming._

_She knew that the team had probably already scoped out his apartment for any evidence, and even if she did go tonight, she seriously doubted there would be any contamination of evidence (she was starting to doubt there was any to contaminate anyways) considering there were traces of her throughout his residence._

_After she dangerously swung her car into the parking lot taking up three parking spaces in the process, she stumbled up the stairs to his place quickly, the dull memories of his apartment hitting her full force in surprisingly vivid color. _

_She swung the door open, taking in a deep breath as soon as she laid eyes on the sight of her home away from home, the apartment that held some of her best memories._

_She ran her hand along the wall, trying to soak in his essence. Tripping into his room, she collapsed on the bed, inhaling the scent of Deeks that she'd missed so much. The smell calmed her considerably, lulling away the remainders of her panic attack. _

_She could feel him next to her, his lips feather soft against her earlobe, his voice husky and soft. The memories that would usually make her sad and mournful were somehow welcome when she was wrapped in his sheets, surrounded by simple things that were purely him. And though it made her bitter because she knew he would never be back to fulfill her fantasies and create new memories with, at the moment she could put all of that aside and fall asleep with the comfort of the traces of Deeks._

* * *

_She slept past the time she was supposed to go to work, the night of rest in Deeks' bed more peaceful and restful than any night since she got the news that he wouldn't return from his op. When she awoke, she laid on her side for a few moments, staring at Deeks' side of the bed where, if things had went as planned, he would be right now. She could see him still, his lean body facing her, his hand in her hair as he stroked away tendrils, staring into her eyes as the sun poured in through the window._

_She placed her hand where she was imagining his on her jaw line, closing her eyes. His hands, calloused and rough, so caring when they touched her, were one of the many things she missed about him. Not that it was really his hands that she missed, it was more of the way he touched her. Something she would never feel again._

_She didn't bother calling anyone at work. It wasn't like she was in trouble, and they sure as hell knew that. She simply didn't want to move. She wanted to stay in his bed, possibly for the rest of her life._

_But two days after she arrived of just lying on his mattress, she heard footsteps outside of his apartment. She tensed, reaching for the gun on her side out of habit, knowing it wasn't there. _

_Remembering almost immediately where Deeks kept one of his many backup firearms, she dropped beside his bed and reached between the two mattresses, pulling out a SIG Sauer, which was already loaded. She stayed low and maneuvered over to his bedroom door, squatting by the threshold before cocking the gun and clicking off the safety as she aimed._

_Her heart pounded as the knob turned slowly, and she placed her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. As the door swung open, she stopped herself from firing immediately at the familiar sight of the man in front of her._

_"Callen? What the hell? Were you trying to get yourself killed?"_

_"Kensi?" he asked, incredulously staring down at the gun in her hand._

_She lowered her gun, drawing in a frustrated breath as she rose to her feet. "What the hell are you doing here?"_

_"Looking for you."_

_She wondered if she was really predictable enough for him to be able to know where she would come. She sighed. "Well, you found me. Must've been pretty damn important if you went through all of that trouble to find me."_

_"Oh, it was no trouble."_

_So she _was_ that predictable._ Great._ "I'm here, I'm fine." She left off the, 'You can leave now,' hoping that it was obvious and already implied._

_But Callen apparently had no intention of leaving. "C'mon, Kens. You can't stay in here forever."_

_She debated on asking him, 'Why not?' but thought better of it. "Do we have a lead?"_

_"No, but-"_

_"'But' nothing. I have a ton of comp time saved up. I want to use it."_

_"We're worried about you."_

_"I. Am. Fine," she insisted, her tone clipped._

_"You'll feel better if you do something. Want to go for a jog or something?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Coffee?"_

_"I'm good."_

_"Look," Callen started, his voice soft. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be like this. He would've wanted you to move on with your life."_

_She knew that there was truth in his words, but she refused to let them hit home. "Can't I just have a few more days? It hasn't even been a week and a half yet."_

_"I know this is hard for you-"_

_"Yeah, it is."_

_"It's hard for us too. Take as much time as you need, but you're strong, Kens. You can get through this."_

Damn, I hope you're right_. "Yeah, okay."_

_"Take care of yourself. Answer when we call, okay?"_

_"Okay."_

_She closed the door behind him quickly, touched and annoyed at how concerned everyone seemed to be about her. She just needed... time. And Deeks back._

_She sucked in a sharp breath at the thought, collapsing on his couch that was thick with dust since his undercover assignment._

_His apartment, usually so lively with the sounds of television, sand trails from his surfing escapades, and Monty running around was oddly quiet. It left an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach, like the apartment had died with him._

_Then a new thought hit her; Monty. She wondered where he was while Deeks was undercover. Who had him? Suddenly, the idea of petting Monty sounded very appealing. And then it was more than appealing; she needed the dog. Almost as if the canine would bring her closer to Deeks somehow._

_She jumped to her feet, running a hand through her messy hair and pulling it quickly into a pony tail. She grabbed her keys, unaware of where exactly she was headed, but her mission was determinedly set in her mind, the force of it taking over her actions before her body could object; she had to find Monty._

* * *

**A/n THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE READS AND REVIEWS! I love you all! Virtual hug: sent. Thanks a bunch for the proof read, Maddie : D  
****XOXO-  
****Cierra**


	9. Chapter 9

_"Ms. Blye? Is everything okay?"_

_She fiddled with her engagement ring as she cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear, closing the door to her house with her leg._

_"Callen is still out, don't worry, I can get him to turn around-"_

_She released a frustrated breath. The team was treating her as if she was a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment. "I'm fine, Hetty." She cringed a bit as her tone came out sharper than she'd intended. She appreciated Hetty's thought, she really did, but she'd never liked being babied. And after the past week and a half, she'd had enough of everyone walking on eggshells around her._

_"What do you need?"_

_"Monty."_

_"Monty? Deeks' dog?"_

_"He didn't have him undercover with him, did he?"_

_"Not that I'm aware of. I'm not the person the ask, Ms. Blye. This was an LAPD assignment. I would try to contact them."_

_Kensi nodded even though Hetty couldn't see and dropped the phone. She'd been obsessively toying with her ring and had forgotten that the phone wasn't being supported by her hand. She cursed internally and picked up the phone, immediately hearing a worried, familiar voice in her ear. "Ms. Blye? Ms. Blye!"_

_"Hetty, I'm fine," she knew the team probably hated hearing 'I'm fine' from her as much as she despised saying it. "I dropped my cell. Sorry."_

_She could've sworn she heard Hetty sigh in relief over the phone, and she wondered why everyone was so concerned about her. It wasn't like she was deathly ill. She was just grieving. That was all. "As I was saying, check with the LAPD."_

_"Thanks, Hetty." She almost hung up the phone before she heard Hetty's voice through the receiver._

_"Ms. Blye?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"I look forward to seeing you back in OSP. But take your time. Nobody expects you back here anytime soon."_

_"Any lead you find-"_

_"You'll be the first to know."_

_Kensi smiled softly. Finally,_ somebody _understood what she needed. Not coddling, just time to herself. And justice. "Thank you, Hetty."_

_"Take care of yourself, Kensi."_

_She ended the phone call, clambering into her car and putting it in drive. The radio dial was not adjusted, the windows were not put down. She just drove, the silent of her car contrasting with the racing of her thoughts that hadn't seemed to stop since Deeks files changed from 'Missing' to 'Dead'. She couldn't seem to force herself to stop thinking about Deeks. No matter what she did, what she thought, it all led back to her partner. She wondered if that was why she was so intently focused on finding Monty, if he was just a distraction so she didn't have to think about Deeks._

_The Los Angeles Police Department headquarter's was buzzing with activity and smelt like old coffee. Between the heat of so many busy people and the scent, it was enough to make her stomach turn into nauseating knots. Kensi couldn't wrap her head around how Deeks could stand working in this place for a good chunk of his life when she could hardly handle a few minutes._

_She slid past hot, sticky bodies, finding her way to one of the head director's offices, flashing her NCIS badge at anyone who cast her suspicious glances. She knocked and waited impatiently, cringing her nose as the smell of stale doughnuts and out of date coffee assaulted her nose. The man standing in front of her didn't smell all too great, either._

_She halfheartedly flipped her badge out, looking up at the overweight, tall man in front of her, liquid soaking through his police uniform where his armpits were located. "NCIS. I'm here about Detective Marty Deeks."_

_He grumbled, moving so she could enter the musty office. "I've talked to your people all ready."_

_"I'm looking for his personal items, stuff he was aloud to take on the mission with him?"_

_He flopped into his chair, propping his feet on top of his desk. "I gotta dead man whose paperwork is proving to be as much as a pain in the ass as he was when he was alive, and you're worried about his mementos?"_

_Kensi refrained herself from curling her hands into fists and clenched her jaw. She knew Deeks wasn't on the greatest terms with the LAPD detectives, but dammit, the nerve the man had to call somebody who died trying to defend imbeciles like himself from dangers ranging from cartels taking over to AK47s flooding the streets a pain in the ass was above her comprehension. It was bad enough they treated him like hell alive, and she refused to let them talk shit about Deeks dead. "Listen, you may not have liked Deeks, but he died trying to save bastards like you, so if I was you I'd have the courtesy to show a little respect. Ever heard that it's wrong to talk bad about the dead?"  
_

_He slammed the desk that he was rummaging through shut and glared up at Kensi. "Deeks was only useful as an undercover operative. I wasn't fond of him, no one was. Why you seem to care so much is beyond me."_

_"Marty was the greatest person I knew," Kensi spat, trying to control herself. "If you can't pull your head out of your ass long enough to see that, then that's your problem. I just want his stuff back."_

_"Why? So you can cry over it? So you can smell him one last time?"_

_Kensi lunged forward, stopping just short of landing a punch against the man's cheek. She bit back a chain of explicit language and could feel her body tremble with rage. The man, whatever his name was, had an uncalled for attitude that made her want to pull out her Glock and shoot him in the back of the head. "Did he have a dog with him?" Kensi finally seethed out, her voice unsteady._

_"Yeah. Took him to the pound. Should be put to sleep pretty soon. That place doesn't have a very long waiting period."_

_"What place?"_

_"Some animal shelter in Compton."_

_She wasn't about to tell him thanks or show anything resembling gratitude and turned on her heels without another word. She could feel his eyes on her as she left, and she all but slammed the door behind her._

_Trying to shake off the horrible encounter she'd just had with the head director, she focused on Monty. He was at a pound? A pound that killed their dogs after a certain period of time? She prayed that she wasn't too late and that there was still time to save the dog. She hadn't been able to be his owner's savior__. This time needed to be different. It had to be, she told herself, because the alternate outcome wasn't an option. She refused to let it._

_She drove even more dangerously than usual, speeding past red lights and darting past stop signs. It wasn't safe, but then again, caution had never really been her thing. She parked her car in the nearly empty parking lot, jogging into the building. "Have you guys recently got a dog from the LAPD? Brown and grey, white muzzle, white stomach? Dark eyes?" she asked quickly, leaving no room for small talk or introductions._

_The girl working the front desk was young and texting on her phone, obviously bored out of her mind. She blew a bubble with her gum and shrugged. "IDK-" _Did she really just use 'IDK' in an actual face to face conversation? _"-but I can check the records. One sec."_

_A few long moments of her obnoxiously gnawing on her gum and clicking some keys on the computer, she looked up and nodded. "Uh-huh. Some off-breed. Wanna see him?"_

_She felt her heart lift; he wasn't dead. She released a breath, relieved. "Please."_

_The teen led her into the kennel, revealing masses of pitiful looking dogs, all shapes, sizes and colors. They barked loudly when the duo entered, clearly excited to see someone that could save them from their inevitable death penalty. It was hard to look at the dogs knowing that they were doomed sooner than later unless by some odds somebody came to save them. She kept her eyes to the ground until she was met with the greatest site she'd seen in far too long._

_Monty, sad and even mangier than usual, lifted his miserable dark eyes and stared into hers, the sad pits of brown instantly lighting with recognition and hope at the sight of his owner's partner. He rose from his stomach to four legs, wagging his tail and barking. She walked over to the gate that held him captive and linked her fingers through the metal. "Monty! Hey, boy!"_

_"So, do you like want to adopt him?"_

_"Yeah, I guess so."  
_

_"He costs seventy dollars. I just need you to fill out some forms and stuff and you should be good to go!"_

_The price didn't matter; as long as Monty was safe and sound with her, she could care less about anything, much less money. "Okay, sounds good."_

* * *

_A stack of papers and a few hours later, Monty hopped onto the bed with Kensi, lying his head on her lap. She'd been trying to sleep since midnight, and now it was nearing two o'clock. She wanted to at least get in a few hours because she planned on going to work tomorrow, but she seriously doubted that would happen anytime soon. It hadn't for almost two weeks, she didn't expect this morning to be any different. With the distraction of finding Monty gone, all she could think about was vengeance. And she fully intended on getting it._

_Blood lust__ and justice complimented and ridiculed each other. Justice was supposed to be fair, and, well, just. And in her eyes, killing the person who took one of the best men she'd ever known off of the face of the earth was more than ethical._

_Deeks had saved her from murdering her father's slaughterer. He wasn't around to stop her this time._

_She realized how tense and riled she was getting just at the thought, and forced herself to calm down for a second, scratching Monty's ears. The dog was more than elated to have been rescued from his predicament at the pound, but even he seemed to be feeling down, like he knew something was off. Like he knew that his best friend wasn't coming back._

_Kensi gulped, petting the dog gently. "I know, Monty. I miss him, too."_


	10. Chapter 10

_Frustration coursed through her veins and she slammed down her cup of coffee, the only thing keeping her awake. "Come on, you've got to be kidding me."_

_"Crime doesn't come to a stand still when one man, no matter how great he was, dies. I'm sorry, Ms. Blye-" There was another thing she was sick of hearing, 'I'm sorry' "-but we have other cases to attend to. There aren't anymore leads to follow. There's no more evidence. I want to catch the bastard that did this as much as you do."_

_She bit back the remark, 'I seriously doubt that,' and stared Hetty down. As intimidating as the little woman was, Kensi's gaze was unwavering. "So you're just going to throw his case into some old archives like it's any other case gone cold?"_

_"Ms. Blye-"_

_"Hetty! You know this is a load of bullshit. Even with Dom we found his car. There can't be nothing."_

_"Tell me, what do you want me to say, hmm?" Hetty asked, agitated, her patience obviously wearing down. "Do you want me to tell you to recheck the crime scenes? To interrogate every enemy he's had since he was in primary school? Go ahead, Kensi. Go right ahead. And if you find anything, you're welcome to all of our resources."_

_Kensi gulped, wondering if the effort was really as moot as Hetty was making it out to be. There had to be something, she kept telling herself. Because if there truly wasn't anything, Kensi wouldn't be able to handle it. She could not go on living her life with the pain she was feeling. The very task of breathing in and out would turn in to too much for her to handle too quickly, and her life in itself would become torture._

_Without another word, she cracked her knuckles and left Ops, doing exactly what Hetty had all but recommended her not to do. She dug through old files and found the list Deeks had helped her with when he'd been shot, made phone calls, looked at anything suspicious in his weekly reports to OSP. It was almost midnight when Nell came down to find her with her head in her hands, nearly barricaded behind a wall of paperwork. She placed a hand on her shoulder, and even though Kensi hadn't seen her coming, she didn't even flinch. "Kensi..."_

_"What?" she tried, and failed, not to snap._

_"I just wanted to say, I'm with you when it comes to finding Deeks' killer. Anything you need me to do, anything, just ask, okay?"_

_She managed a weak smile and nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Nell."_

_"But, uh- it's kind of late. Want to come to my house? We can order some food or something."_

_Kensi appreciated the effort her friend was making to try to get things back to normal and pull her out of her grief induced trance, but food was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to find who killed Deeks, dammit. "Thanks, but no thanks. Eric could probably use some quality time with you," she suggested, raising a knowing eyebrow._

_"You sure?"_

_Again, she nodded tentatively. "Yeah, I'm sure."_

_"See you around, then."_

_"See you."_

_She rubbed her forehead as Nell walked away, sipping her Red Bull before returning to the personnel folder of a guy's son that Deeks had put away for murder. She could already tell his files were clean, and folded the file back into its container, tossing it haphazardly to the side of the desk and pulling out records from another Deeks related case. _

_She wondered if anything happened to her if the team would give up as easily as they did with Deeks even though she knew she was being unfair. She couldn't help but ponder if they would seem this unaffected. Deeks had been one of them and they were treating his case, his murder, like nothing. Why? Why were they doing this?_

_Sam was standing in front of her now, his huge frame obvious in her peripheral. She glanced up, not even trying to smile._

_"Hey, Kensi."_

_"Hi."_

_He perched himself on her desk, careful to avoid the stacks of paperwork. "I miss him too. God, he'd never let me live this down if he heard me right now."_

_Kensi allowed herself a little grin, more for his sake then her amusement. Happiness, even if something was genuinely funny, seemed so hard to come by that she figured it had to be a national rarity._

_"And I know it seems like we're giving up on him, but Kens, when you were out we did everything we could. And by everything, I mean everything. It was like the stress of Dom's case times ten. Crazy intense. Even for the big ass SEAL I am, it was hard on us." Sam paused before he continued, looking uncharacteristically grim. "Damn, I've never seen Eric like that before. Nell was a train wreck too. They were both more than out of it. Couldn't even comfort each other, and that's saying something, 'cause usually we can't keep 'em off of each other."_

_Kensi dropped her eyes, and he laid a giant hand on hers. "Don't you think for a minute we've stopped lookin' for who did this, got that? We're just giving it some time." She nodded, but still didn't look up. He patted her shoulder, jumping off of her desk. "You know my number, you need anything, just call me. I'm there in a heartbeat."_

_"Thank you." Though it was barely audible, she meant it. His concern, though aggravating, made her heart warm. He really was the big brother she never had, emphasis on the 'big'._

_"Hang in there."_

_And then she was alone, the office of special projects way too empty for her liking. She could hear the silence that magnified her thoughts, and the paperwork in front of her seemed too impending to even begin to concur. She gathered it all up in one unorganized pile, unable to be in the company of all of the reminders of his death any longer. Picking up her keys, she dragged herself out of ops and home to her place, which, much to her despair, was just as lonesome and just as quiet, if not more._

_She turned on the TV and stared at the wall, curling onto the couch. If she sniffed just the right places on the cushions, she could still smell his scent lingering in the seams. Under layers of aliases and undercover assignments, there he was. The Deeks she wanted to remember. The one before the explosion, the one that was very much alive. The one that she missed so much it physically ached._

_Monty whined and she ignored him, the feeling of all of the caffeine deteriorating in her body making her head swim with the need to sleep. She left the TV on, needing the light it provided. She put it on mute, though she could hardly tolerate the silence. She curled around his sweatshirt, his scent, searching for him. And when she wasn't able to find him, something combined with the hopelessness and the hurt she felt pulled her into an unconsciousness that was more of hell than actually sleep._

* * *

_What the hell? She was pulled out of sleep by somebody screaming bloody murder, their voice cutting into the air like a sharp knife, piercing the not-so-tranquil quiet that crushed her living room. She struggled into a sitting position, reaching for her gun._

_She froze. Something wasn't right. She would've been able to sense the presence of somebody else, and that scream had been so loud there was no way it came from outside. She felt liquid on her cheek and raised her hand to feel it, puzzled. Had she been crying?_

_Then it fell into place. She'd screamed. She'd woke herself up. She was crying because of the damn nightmares. This one had been so horrendous she couldn't even handle it subconsciously, apparently._

_Her heart pounded as she collapsed back onto the couch, sobs wracking her body as she remembered the dream she'd been pulled out of. And the worst part was, it wasn't a dream. The hell she'd conjured up in her sleep was her reality, and the realization was so painful it felt like a knife to her chest._

_She struggled to inhale a breath as her lungs constricted with each cry, and she seemed to lose her feeble grip on the emptiness that was now her life. She thought of his smile, the tightness of his skin after he'd come back from a good surf, the way his biceps flexed under her hand when she held onto him. She thought of his sense of humor, the sparkle that never seemed to leave his eyes, the way his irises tinged with green when he got absorbed in something that interested him. And she screamed into the pillow of her couch, the fact that she would never see him again making her heart hurt unimaginably, the pain something she'd experienced only when her father died._

_This was somehow even worse than the death of her dad, if that was possible. After her father's body was recovered, she knew that somehow she would be able to move on, that her life had some direction. But with Deeks gone, the road in front of her looked dark. There was no way to continue._

_She gasped, trying to calm herself down. Having a heart attack wouldn't help her predicament, she knew, but something kept pulling her further and further away. She felt Monty's muzzle nudge her hand, heard his worried whine buried somewhere beneath the sound of her own crying. His discomfort was nowhere near enough to pull her out of her fit, and spots of darkness clouded her vision before she could attempt to will them away. She felt like she was going to die. No, she knew she was going to die._

_She heard a knock on her door, but she was so far gone she couldn't think of who it might be. And she didn't care. If she was honest with herself, she hoped it was an assassin that had come to put her out of her misery._

* * *

Dammit, this place again?_ If she went three lifetimes before being in another starchy hospital bed like the one she was currently lying in it would be too soon. She turned to find a nurse hooking up fluids to her IV and realized how distressed she felt. But as far as she was concerned, she could be an emotional mess at home._

_"Who brought me here?" She didn't really care what was wrong with her. She just wanted her ass in her own bed. Yeah, that sounded good._

_"Your neighbor called. She heard a scream," the nurse informed matter-of-factly, checking Kensi's vitals. She waited for a second as if she expected Kensi to ask her what had happened, and when she didn't, she told her herself. "You had a panic attack."_

_"Yeah. Okay."_

_"Have you had anything traumatic happen lately that could've brought this on?"_

_Kensi considered lying, but she really didn't have the will to even attempt to come up with a half way decent story. "My par- boyfriend was found dead."_

_"Was he listed as your next of kin?"_

_After they'd been dating for a while, she'd had it switched. She hadn't talked to Julia in over a year. If anything bad ever happened, she thought that Deeks deserved to know first. "Yeah. Did you call anyone?"_

_"No. But if you can give me a number, I can make any calls you need me to."_

_Kensi shook her head, relieved the team didn't know. "No, that's okay. Just give me the release forms."_

_The nurse raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment on her lack of people to call. She tapped her clipboard, frowning. "You know, we should really get you into therapy. I know a great physiologist that could really help-"_

_"No, thanks. I don't need a therapist." Paying some random stranger to listen to her problems was the last thing she wanted to do or needed. She just needed to get home, then she could figure out anything else._

_"I'm going to call in some antidepressants and schedule some follow-up appointments. Sorry about your boyfriend."_

_She ignored the last part. Right now, in the raw state she was in, all she could do was focus on not thinking about him. The last thing this nurse needed was to see her burst into hysterics again. "Okay. Can I leave now?"_

_"Give it a few minutes," the nurse chided with a small smile, writing down something on her paper. "I'd feel a lot better if you called someone to pick you up."_

_She shrugged and lied, "I feel great. I'm fine to drive."_

_"Yeah, but you don't have a car."_ I have to call someone. _"But I can't hold you here against your will. Your prescriptions will arrive tomorrow if you want to pick them up." She didn't. _

_"Can you take this IV out?" Kensi hated the feeling of needles in her body, the way she could feel the end of it move around inside of her forearm when she bent her wrist. And it was a sensation she'd grown way too used to over the past few weeks._

_The nurse disassembled it silently, putting a bandage on where it had been. She told her where a change of clothes was and informed her that she could leave after the release forms were signed. And Kensi felt relieved, but it was so masked by the fog of the turmoil that was her mind, she could hardly establish the identities of all of the different emotions she was feeling._

_She felt so empty without him. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, the sorrow, the darkness. It hurt. Even for Bad Ass Take No Shit From Anyone Never Show Defeat Kensi Blye, it was impossible to tolerate._

_Once the nurse left and she started getting dressed, she sniffled subconsciously. She felt water on her cheek and admonished herself, muttering, "Dammit, Kensi. This again, really?"_

_Part of her hatred towards crying was that it showed weakness. Not because she was cocky or stubborn, either. People would say, 'Crying shows you're human'. She didn't need confirmation that she was human. She needed confirmation that she wasn't turning into a distraught cry baby like the housewives she saw on television. Though after her partner died she had a more than plausible excuse to let down her barriers, it still wasn't acceptable. She hated herself a little for the salty dampness that stained her cheeks and made her eyes puffy, the ultimate mark of a walking overemotional cliché._

___Kensi Blye was tired of feeling. She craved numbness. She was tired of being anything other than emotionless. So she built up walls even China would be impressed by._

* * *

**A/n Gah I love you all for all the reviews/reads! Thanks a bunch! Thanks Maddie for the proof read! Everyone should go read her story, Jack in the Box. It's amazing!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	11. Chapter 11

_This was a pain that she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. She knew that the life she'd been living was her death except dragged out. She tried not to talk about it or think about it, but the vacancy of Deeks was becoming undeniably larger and harder to push to the back of her mind. She started to wonder if talking about it would help. So she put her defenses down for a few minutes, desperate to try anything to ease the hurt she couldn't stop feeling._

_"I just- I feel so vulnerable. He made me feel safe, and now..."_

_Nell nodded empathetically, her eyes lighting in understanding. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. Eric makes me feel safe, I can't even imagine how you feel right now."_

_She shook her head, dropping her gaze. "My future had so much potential with him, and now I can't even imagine getting married and having kids, the whole nine yards."_

_"Kensi-"_

_"No, it's totally different now," she insisted, trying to find the right words. "I don't want any of it, not without him."_

_Nell swallowed. "I think I need a beer."_

_"Me too."_

* * *

_He joked about it all of the time, the cryogenic fashion in which he would be frozen if anything was to happen to him. Never did he tell her what he really wanted them to do with his body if things took a turn for the worst. Now that he was gone, she didn't know what to do._

_The team had offered to handle his funeral arrangements, but she felt obligated to take care of it. So she did. It was shocking to her how quickly everything could be arranged, how much could be done in so little time. And when the day arrived for the funeral, she shimmied into the same power suit Deeks had complimented her on so long ago, didn't even make an attempt with her make-up, and pulled her hair into an extremely simple bun that made her look like she'd just stepped out of a crack house. She didn't care. Hadn't for a few weeks._

_Technically the service should've been held sooner, but between his case and her lack of composition, funeral planning hadn't been top on their list of priorities. Besides, she thought grimly, his body was already about as bad as it could get. A little decomposition probably wouldn't make a difference._

_She stepped over crumbled eulogies she'd failed at writing, kicking them out of the way along with beer caps and whiskey corks. She considered taking a sip of something strong but decided against it last minute, calling Monty to follow her. Damn, even the dog seemed depressed out of his mind lately, almost as bad as she was. He would hardly even touch his dog food. She scratched his ear, murmuring, "It's okay, Monty," despite the fact that it was not only a lie, but also that Monty couldn't understand what she was saying._

_The sun was way too bright and the sky too blue. It reminded her a bit of Deeks, inappropriately cheery and eyes azule. The venue was also overly gorgeous, every flower in the graveyard vibrant, every stone polished. She walked past the graves towards the shining black casket she saw in the distance, its ebony surface reflected by a body of water parallel to it. The site, even from a distance, made her throat constrict. It made everything real, the last few weeks consummated with one dreary box._

_She sat in the back row, Monty in tow, his unexcited form sitting obediently at her side, apparently too sad to try to run around or greet anyone with a bark. _

_She hadn't chosen a playlist, figuring her taste in music was so different from his that he would be cringing in his coffin at the sound of whatever she chose. The only sounds for a while were the birds singing and the occasional breeze swaying through the trees, and as people filed in, their mourning was added to the chorus of chirps, the two sounds completely contrasted. But she didn't cry. She couldn't. She hated crying, Deeks had hated seeing her cry, therefore she wouldn't._

_Each grief stricken team member dragged themselves to the podium after the preacher, who had apparently also been a friend of Deeks, gave a touching introduction that Kensi refused to allow to get to her. She watched one by one as Deeks' surrogate family spoke about the man he was, how great and funny and kind and caring. Nell couldn't even finish hers._

_After Ray had took his seat, Kensi had somehow managed to make it to the podium. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what there was to say. She couldn't promise justice considering they didn't have a lead, she couldn't say that everything would be alright because it wouldn't, and she couldn't offer a single consoling word because she herself needed comfort. Still unsure, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat and nearly choked but caught herself, clearing her throat harshly. "Deeks was more than a partner to me. He was my best friend. He was the best agent I'd ever had the opportunity to work with, and he was always smiling even when I treated him awfully. I didn't tell him how much he meant to me enough, and now I don't have the chance._

_"I like to think he's in a better place. Surfing or something. Not watching everyone being sad about his death, that's for sure. He always hated seeing anybody, even total strangers, upset. I used to think it was because he lived in his own little happy world and didn't allow sadness to break into it. That was just who he was, happy. Even at times when things were about as bad as they could get, he always found a way to find the best in people and any situation._

_"One time I told him something totally unrealistic, to not die. And he, uh... even replied with okay. Okay." She bowed her head, biting her lip to keep her tears at bay. "I never understood why he didn't tell me how stupid it was to expect that from him, especially in his line of work. I still don't, even now, after everything's happened..._

_"I keep wondering if I could've said anything or done anything differently. But it's too late. He's gone." She blinked away tears rapidly, finishing in what would've been an inaudible voice without the microphone to magnify it. "He deserved the world, and hopefully wherever he is, he's finally getting it."_

_She stepped off of the podium, not making eye contact with any of the attendees. The lump in her throat had sprouted into a tight ball, and she tried to keep her breath even as she gulped again and again, trying to make the tightness fade. When it didn't, she gave up, letting a single cry escape her mouth before she could second guess it. It blended in with the sounds of other guests' tears, indistinguishable. And just like everything else lately, it pissed her off for reasons she knew she'd never be able to identify._

_She sat as far away as she could, waiting for everybody to clear out. Almost everybody who came (which turned out to be a surprising amount of people, people Kensi had never met, people like the ones she'd served in the food kitchen a few Christmases ago with Deeks) offered her condolences. Ray was one of the last ones to leave, his face sullen and his eyes watery._

_"When you called me I thought it was because you two finally got married or something. This-" he gestured to the funeral, shaking his head sadly, "-this was the last thing I expected to hear from you."_

_Kensi sniffled, trying to hide the redness of her eyes. She was glad she hadn't bothered with make-up._

_Ray lay a hand on her shoulder, closing his eyes for a second. "He was crazy about you, you know that? I got in touch with him a few months ago, you were all he could talk about. He really was a sucker for brunettes."_

_She noticed his use of 'was', trying to get used to it. She hated forcing herself to grow accustomed to something she couldn't stand._

_"I owed him everything. He was the only reason I could have the life I have now. He helped me make it through my shitty childhood. I hate that I won't be able to repay him."_

_Kensi nodded mutely, the only thing she could manage. She knew exactly how he felt._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Me too."_

_"Hang in there, Wikipedia."_

_After Ray left, she was alone. She approached the coffin box that he would spend eternity in and laid her palm against the smooth surface. Monty spread out next to it, laying down. She didn't blame him. That was exactly what she wanted to do. _

_But she didn't. Instead, she placed a red rose on the surface of the box, staring down at her reflection on the glistening surface, thinking. This is not how Deeks would stay forever, crammed in some box. __She refused to accept it. _Hell, he wanted to be cryogenically frozen, basically the opposite of what ended up happening to him. Not this. Anything but this.

_So she called the coroner, whom she oddly enough had in her contacts list. And for the first time in awhile, Kensi Blye knew exactly what she was going to do._

* * *

**A/n Disclaimer: Disclaimed.  
Thanks to Maddie, as usual, for the proof!  
Okay, just bear with me for a few more chapters. Sad!Kensi is as hard to write as it is for you guys to read, and as much as I love torturing you all, you won't have to be depressed for too much longer. That's all the spoilers I'll give.  
And I officially have four WIPs so it might take a little longer to update. I'm also really invested in one of them I'm writing, Sideways, so this is ya'lls warning. Sorry, a writer's gotta do what a writer's gotta do.  
Thanks for all of the amazing reviews/follows/favorites/reads. You guys are fabulous.  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	12. Chapter 12

_Seven hours and two six packs later, Kensi lay on her stomach, chin resting flat against the scolding sand. She let the water lap against her heels and snuggled herself closer to Monty._

_The sound of the waves was placid and drowned out her thoughts. For the most part, it was nice._

_So she lay there until the sun began to lower over the ocean, pulling herself up when she saw the orange glow of the setting sun cast itself onto the sand. Taking a long drag of Budweiser, she boarded his surfboard, swimming into the waves that lapped over each other rhythmically. The water cooled her sunburnt skin, wetting her sandy hair that she'd took out of the bun as soon as she'd stepped off of her father's old boat._

_She looked at the brass urn she held securely, smoothing her hand over the nacre that embroidered the container. It fit, she had decided, to purchase a cistern that was made of shells, something he was around so often. As she'd been staring at the morbid black of the casket he'd lain in, she'd also decided that it was appropriate to put him to rest in a fashion that was much more Deeks-like than stuffing him in a box for the rest of his afterlife. After a quick phone call to Hetty asking for approval and a few pit stops later, it had put her at an old island her Dad had showed her when she was thirteen._

_She sat up on the surfboard, staring into the setting sun. Much like when Deeks had explained his undercover adventures to her when he'd visited the night he went missing, she could nearly see him gliding across the darkening crystal blue water, crashing into the sea foam and salt with his hair alight from the backdrop the sun provided. And, once again, she noticed the damn tightness in her throat that hadn't gone away since the funeral._

_The sun glinted against the urn, and she opened it carefully, setting the lid between her legs. She took the capsule and chain from around her neck first, dropping some of his ashes into it for Hetty before returning it safely to its spot on her chest. She gulped, watching as her hair whipped in front of her eyes. _This is it.

_Focusing on breathing evenly, she waited until the wind was blowing in the right direction, taking the time to calm down . Or try to, anyways. Her hands shook as she whispered, "Alright, Deeks," and turned the container upside down, watching as his ashes blew into the water and the curving waves, specs swirling in the wind. She closed her eyes, feeling dampness that didn't belong to the ocean leak down her cheek._

_Her chest felt heavy, and she lay down on his board, her feet dangling in the ocean. She felt her inhalations and exhalations increase in their tempo, dampness stinging at her eyes, welling against her eyelashes before falling and splattering off of her chin, tracing a path to her chest. She didn't move for a long time, letting the heat of the sun be replaced with a moonless night sky. _

_She'd never seen so many stars.__ They sparkled and flickered around the edges, the blue and the white of their fire single-handedly lighting the sky. And again, she thought of Deeks, allowing her mind to steer away from the sounds of the waves. She thought of how his eyes used to shine, not unlike the orbs of fire she was currently staring at, floating outside of the atmosphere a billion miles away. _

_She'd never been an overly religious person, but lately she'd started to think a lot about life after death. And she fed on the idea that there was more to life than the here and the now because the thought that she would never see him again, dead or alive, was unbearable._

_She turned onto her stomach, startled at how far away she'd floated from shore. She paddled full force, her tired body begging her to stop with every movement. By the time she reached the secluded beach her body was sore and waterlogged, her mouth dry. She all but collapsed onto the land, scooting her way towards the bottles of beer and ambien she had stashed under a palm tree, popping four of the pills onto her tongue and washing it down with the beer, not stopping until the bottle was empty. She wondered if it would kill her . She kind of wanted it to._

_And there was another thought. She stared at the bottle of medication, wondering if she should pop in a few more and dive into the ocean. It's not like the team would find her body. Also, maybe, just maybe, she would be able to see Deeks._

_The idea of being with him in just a few minutes and out of the hell she was living was overwhelmingly appealing, and her fingers inched near the bottle of sleep pills she'd discarded back under the tree. But, then again, if she killed herself who would find Deeks' killer? Sure, the team was still around, but when it came down to it, were they willing to risk their whole career to find the son of a bitch that murdered her partner? Did they feel the never ending burn she did, the need to torture whoever killed him?_

_So she decided she would wait until his murderer was dead, and then find her way back to the island with stronger sleep pills and stronger alcohol in tow. She curled into the sand, yawning, looking forward to the day she would put an end to everything with a few swigs of liquid and half of a bottle of prescriptions. _

* * *

_When she woke up her body felt like it was on fire. She wanted to stretch, but moving her body would be excruciating and she knew it. So she stayed put, not moving an inch. At one point she tried to open her eyes, but not only did it irritate her fiery skin, it also sent an even more anguishing headache pounding through her skull. After a few painful minutes, she somehow was able to sort out that (A) she was __thoroughly hungover, (B) her sunburn was more intense than after she'd visited the Sahara in the middle of the summer for three days, and (C) she was parched. _

_Before she could debate on whether moving or not was a reasonable idea she felt her stomach roil and she instinctively sat up, barfing onto the sand. She groaned at the feel of her red skin stretching as she moved into a kneeling position, her heart beat hammering against her skull. Her muscles were sore from the swim, her feet not willing to carry her the fifty feet to her boat. After clambering on board and setting the ship for departure she threw up overboard again at the feel of the boat lurching with the water beneath her. _

_She tried to swallow, but she couldn't even muster up enough saliva to wet her mouth, which felt like it was made of cotton. She wanted something to drink desperately, realizing a second too late she'd left her beer on the island. Her lips were so dry that she was afraid they were going to crack and her sunburn had already started to peel. She sped the boat across the ocean recklessly, almost crashing into the dock, haphazardly roping it up, hoping her half assed attempt didn't end with her dad's boat floating into the middle of the Pacific. She sprinted into the nearest convenience store, exhaling in relief as the cool air conditioner caressed her skin._

_She ignored the pointed looks from the other shoppers and purchased two bottles of water, downing one breathlessly. She threw it up near her car, sitting where she left it, secluded in an old warehouse's parking lot. Laying her head against the metal, she took a deep breath. _ In, out. In, out. _ Four sleeping pills plus a shitload of alcohol made for possibly the worst hangover she'd ever experienced in her life, and she'd had a lot of rough morning afters, too many to count. After standing against the car for a good ten minutes, she finally got the willpower to open it and sit down, trying to steady her mind and failing. Another few minutes passed and she turned on the AC, cranking it as far as it would go. That was as much as she could manage with the vertigo swimming through her brain._

_She sat there for a long time, her head on the steering wheel. She didn't want to move. Eventually her desire to stay put was overruled by an even bigger desire to go home. She managed to make it to her house, running a bath of cold water and sinking into it._

_When she'd walked past the living room she'd noticed her phone's light flickering like crazy, alerting her of probably seventy or so missed calls and texts from the team. She wondered how long it would be before they put her on suicide watch._

_The team treated her like a bomb seconds away from blowing, and though she hated it, she wondered if their precautions were as misguided as she'd originally thought. Now it was just a matter of time because when they found who killed him, she was as good as gone. _

_And so the countdown began._

* * *

**A/n Thanks as always to Maddie for proofing and you guys for being amazing! Love ya'll!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	13. Chapter 13

_"Who is that?" Kensi asked, staring at the gangly and greasy guy that stood before her._

_Sam looked uncomfortable and nodded to G in a way that was supposed to be subtle and inconspicuous. Following the nod, G motioned for Kensi to follow him to the couch, but once they arrived neither of them moved to sit down, Kensi standing in front of a weary Callen, her tired eyes sharp._

_"Well?"_

_"He's here for an interview." He paused before clarifying, "A job interview."_

_"A job interview?" Kensi asked, her mouth going dry as it stood agape._

_"Yes," Callen replied cautiously, as every member of her team did when they spoke to her._

_"We're not replacing Deeks," Callen finally said. "He was irreplaceable. But it's been six months. You need a partner-"_

_"I do not, under any circumstances, need a partner," Kensi seethed, her jaw clenched, defiant._

_"It was Hetty's call-"_

_"I don't care whose call it was," Kensi interrupted. "If you're doing job interviews, you might as well hire two new agents because I'm quitting."_

_"Kens-"_

_"Don't. Just stop, Callen." She'd been planning on hanging on until Deeks' murder was solved, but she would figure out some other way to find the culprit. She was not going into the field with somebody who wasn't him. She was not going to build trust with another stranger only to grow attached. Attachment, it seemed, led to hurt. Hurt she couldn't afford._

_"Kensi." His voice was soft, a gentle warning. "If you quit, NCIS won't be the same. You're the only one keeping Hetty here. And we love you. Please. We can't lose somebody else."_

_"Why not? You sure as hell had an easy enough time getting over Deeks. If I left then you'd forget about me soon enough." She regretted her bitter words as soon as they'd left her mouth, but she couldn't deny the raw honesty she'd packed behind them. And she knew the truth in her words was what really stung G. Regardless how much of what she'd said she actually meant, she quickly apologized. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."_

_He nodded, his eyes sad. "Yeah. It's- uh- it's okay."_

_"Callen..."_

_"You know what, never mind. I'll talk to Hetty. I am team leader, after all. You don't seem to need anyone." He was quiet a beat too long before adding, "In the field, I mean."_

* * *

Another case. Another dead guy. Another lead.

_Everything was simply going through the motions for Kensi Blye. Had been for nine months._

_She threw herself into work full force, focusing on not thinking about the lack of sleep, on thinking about whatever case they were working instead. If she wasn't working, she was either punching the shit out of the punching bag or drinking. The team hovered over her, always pestering. "Are you feeling okay?" "Everything good?" "Do you need a few?" "Did you get any sleep last night?" The answers were always "I'm fine," "I'm good," "No," and "Yes," but she wasn't fooling anybody. She wondered how long it would be before one of the members scoffed and said, "Bullshit."_

_She looked like hell, basically a walking skeleton with bags under her eyes. Her hands trembled at work if she hadn't had her daily dose of caffeine or if she'd skipped the alcohol the night before, which wasn't often. Solid food was more or less a fuzzy recollection, something she had to dig to remember eating on a regular basis. Everything tasted the same to her. Bland and unspecial._

_So when Nell approached her after work offering to pay for her dinner, Kensi shook her head politely. "I'm good, thanks." Nell had made a concerted effort to try to force normality on her after Deeks had died, but she fought back twice as hard to ignore it. She knew she was cutting herself off from the team. She couldn't allow herself to care about how they may feel, even though she knew it was rather bitchy of her._

_"Please," she pleaded, hazel eyes hopeful. "You know what tomorrow is."_

Oh. _ How could she have forgotten? "Um..."_

_"Please?" she repeated, nearly trembling with anxiety. "I won't get to see you for a while and tomorrow's just going to be so hectic and oh my God-"_

_"Um, okay. Where to?"_

_"I don't know, what are you in the mood for? Italian sound good?"  
_

_"Sure. I'll follow in my car, okay?"_

* * *

_"So this is like your bachelorette party?"_

_"Yeah. I wasn't up for all the chaos of throwing a big one."_

_Kensi nodded, taking a sip of her soda. She decided she'd save the drinking for after the wedding. She needed to be supportive for Nell and Eric, even if she was envious and depressed out of her mind. They would get their life, their chance. Kensi and Deeks had been denied their opportunity._

_Nell had been careful to involve her in the wedding planning, making sure she was her maid of honor and that she attended all of the fittings. But Kensi had ended up weaseling her way out of the smaller details; the cake testings, the venue pickings, the cater samplings. She knew Nell wanted her best friend back, but the companion she'd found in Kensi had seemed to have died with Deeks. The only thing Kensi could do was try to put on a happy face and be there for Nell when the wedding jitters got the best of her._

_After Deeks had died, they bumped the wedding back from the original date. They all needed time to recuperate, not just Kensi. And eventually, they had. 'They', of course, not including Kensi._

_Idle conversation was passed over dinner, Nell carefully stepping over the topic of her wedding. For that, Kensi was grateful. All of the wedding talk as of late, no matter how much she tried to deny it, was a painful reminder of what wouldn't be. _

_But she knew that she would stand strong at Nell's wedding, watch her walk down the aisle, congratulate her, not address the elephant in the room wearing a big sign around its neck that read, 'That could've been you, too.' And the next day, she did. She didn't drink at the reception or cocktail hour, knowing that if she did she wouldn't be able to stop. So instead she tried to drown the hurt out of her heart with bourbon at her house, staring at the ceiling as she drank, swallowed, and repeated._

* * *

_"When was the last time you ate, Kensi?"_

_"Hmm?" It took her a second to realize that somebody was talking to her. After a while, the team had given up on trying to engage her in conversation, though they made it a point to invite her to their get-togethers, most of which she politely but pointedly declined._

_"Food? You know, that you put into your mouth and chew? That stuff you eat?"_

_The sarcasm, a lousy attempt to get her to smile, did nothing to lift the permanence of the dreary mood she'd been cursed with for a year now. "That? Oh, um, I just ate this morning." Dammit, she was bad a lying. Deeks would've called her out on it._

_"Mmm. Mhmm. Well," Sam started, unconvinced. "I think that you should come to my house. Michelle and the kids miss you and tonight's pizza night. We always have leftovers."_

_"Thanks but uh, no thanks. I'm tired. I think I'm just going to go home."_

_She could see the concern plainly written in his features, and she tried not to let it get to her. If she was in his position she knew she would be worried as well. "Yeah, okay, Kensi. You know you can talk to me if you wanna, right?"_

_"Of course."_

_"'Aight. See ya."_

_"Bye, Sam."_

_Maybe he did the whole 'You know where to find me' shebang because when she committed suicide he wanted to feel like he did what he could, like he wasn't to blame. Which, of course, he wouldn't be the one at fault. And she hoped to God he didn't say it was something that could've been prevented. She_ was_ a lost cause._

* * *

_At her house, the first thing she did was the same thing she did every night: find her way to the back of her closet and stare at the chain of events once again, scope her mind for hidden clues. Behind her clothes was a web complete with pictures and places, cold cases that shared resemblance to his case and a small collection of personnel files. _

_Her investigating was obstructed by a knock at her door, a foreign sound. She hadn't had a visitor in a while, well over a month. And there was only one person on the team that didn't use the doorbell..._

_"Callen." She supposed that was the part where she was expected to sound surprised, but she couldn't find it in her to act taken off guard._

_"Kensi," he echoed. In his hand he held a six pack and two burgers. "You look like you need some food."_

_"I already ate."_

_"So eat again. This is the best burger in town. Straight from the food truck's freezer."_

_She fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger as he walked inside, sitting down on the couch. She knew he was leaving no room for her to try to kick him out. _

_"I'm kidding about the freezer," he assured, taking a bite of his burger. He held out her food so she could take it if she wanted, but she didn't make an attempt to reach for the outstretched food, going straight for the booze instead.  
_

_"No Top Model?" he asked, gesturing to the TV that hadn't been used in close to four weeks. A thin layer of dust had settled over everything, not just the entertainment center, giving her house an appearance that made it seem vaguely unoccupied. If she was honest with herself, it was eerie._

_"I haven't seen any episodes this season. I'd be lost if I started watching it now," she excused easily, taking a seat on the very edge of the couch, hoping that he didn't catch how far away she was sitting from him._

_"That FBI show's on. We should watch it and make fun of how unrealistic it is."_

_"If you want."_

_His attempt at normal was futile and they both knew it, both had almost come to terms with it. Normal would be somebody else sitting with her on the couch drinking beer and eating burgers. Normal would be a bed that wasn't permanently cold on one side. Normal would be shaggy hair and all smiles casting her goofy glances in her peripheral. And normal, sadly, was slipping away from Kensi Blye, more so as countless days slipped by._

_It was nearing midnight when G yawned and Kensi told him that she would probably head to bed in a few minutes. She led Callen to the door and said goodbye, but he caught the door before she could close it, scrutinizing her in a way that only G could. "Kensi."_

_She steeled herself, knowing a much dreaded 'Pep Talk For the Grieving' as she liked to call it was approaching._

_"It's been a year."_

_"I know."_

_"Are you ever going to-" _Move on?

_The unspoken words bounced around in her skull, reflecting off of her brain and bouncing back towards the inside of her forehead. She closed her eyes for a split second longer than usual, trying to formulate a reply. When she opened her eyes, Callen was centimeters away from her._

What. The. Hell.

_She saw what he was trying to do, and it made her heart speed up. Not in the good way, either. Instead of the fluttering that was usually associated with an oncoming kiss, her pulse thundered so rapidly it was as if she was about to get hit by a train. _

_Turning her head quickly, she stuttered as she reached for the door knob. "Um, I'll see you tomorrow."  
_

_"Kensi-"_

_"Bye."_

_The door was all but slammed in his face, and she couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips as she locked the door behind her. Had he seriously thought that she would kiss him? Would want to kiss him?_

_He was setting himself up for heartache. Hell, he had to know she'd never be over Deeks. How could he not?_

_Before she could over interpret the whole situation any longer, her cellphone rang. She prayed it wasn't Callen._

_Mercifully, the caller idea did not, in fact, read Callen. Instead, scrawled out in modernized font, was the single syllabled word 'Ops'. _

_Normally, she would love an excuse to not have to suffer through the nightmares. But at the moment, the last thing she wanted to do was work a case with Callen. "Hello?"_

_"Kensi, we've got a case." Nell sounded different. Happier than usual? Wired?_

_"Okay. I'll be there in a few."_

_"Hurry. You're going to want to see this."_

* * *

**A/n Sorry, I know this has been rather boring to read and the wait was longer than usual. I was planning on dragging the story out, but I realize how you guys aren't interested in a story with no plot development, so all of the case talk and stuff will be coming up next chapter.  
Thanks to Maddie for the proof as always! All of the alerts make me smile : ) Love you guys!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	14. Chapter 14

_The more she thought about it, the more she figured that maybe, just maybe, she'd been sending G the wrong messages._

_He, more than any of the other team members, had been there for her the past year. He had spent more time with her, made a greater effort to enforce regularity. He'd held her hand before, but only briefly, and she'd though it had been a gesture that was supposed to be comforting._

_She thought of him as a big brother. She'd thought that he considered her a sister._

_Some family._

_Had she really been that blind? Had she led him on? She didn't think so, but then again everything seemed to be the exact opposite of what she thought lately._

_The drive to the mission was quick and void of the radio, and when she entered OSP she was careful to avoid Callen's gaze. But Callen was the last thing on her mind when Hetty rushed up to her, breathless. "Ms. Blye..."_

* * *

_"You mean... that footage... was photoshopped?"_

_Eric nodded, his eyes wide as he brought up a picture of a dark eyed middle aged man, defined jaw clenched in the mugshot._

_"How is that even possible?"_

_"We didn't even know it was. See, that's definitely Deeks' face. Facial rec. doesn't lie. And the quality's absolutely horrible, anyways. But, with the right training, it's not that difficult to change the faces on footage and make it look like a live stream. The hard part, however, is making it pass through our Error Level Analysis machinery."_

_"The skills needed to possess that kind of graphic imaging would involve extensive training," Nell supplied, taking center stage. "So we crosschecked suspects from Deeks' undercover op with graphic designing schools, image technology high school courses, etcetera."_

_Kensi nodded eagerly. If the footage wasn't real, if the person in the building hadn't been Deeks, then he could be alive. And even if he wasn't, she could finally find the son of a bitch who'd caused her so much pain, who took away her reason for living._

_"Nada," Eric continued. "But, when crossing the info with old suspects from cases Deeks had worked, we came up with only one person." He enlarged the picture of the man, ushering his head to the screen. "Teller-comma-Drake."_

_"Deeks put Teller away for seven years when he worked with the LAPD. He was later proven innocent. Apparently, his prison conditions were awful. He graduated from Western Michigan University, top of his class, major in graphic design."_

_"Once we figured out the footage was spoofed, it explained a lot. Like why the quality was only good enough to identify Deeks and not the people that took him. Almost as if they wanted us to believe he was in that building."_

_"So where is he now? Teller?"_

_"Last time so much as a credit card charge appeared on his record was t__hree years ago. But, we looked into the cartel that was part of why Deeks found him guilty and put him into jail in the first place. We found that this man-" A picture of a man who, despite shorter hair and a few pounds shed, looked exactly like Teller appeared on the screen, "-named Ethan Ricardo has showed up on some recent wanted lists, most of them for petty larceny."_

_"So he got a new identity? Where is he now?"_

_"After he stole four hundred dollars from a convenience store with a few cartel members, he went totally off the grid. We can't find him anywhere."_

_"So we track the cartel."_

_"It's not that simple," Eric interjected, avoiding her eyes. "This isn't just your average cartel."_

_"That's never stopped us before."_

_"No, it hasn't," Hetty agreed. "But they haven't had as much as a misdemeanor pop up since a week before Deeks went missing. They're all but ghosts."_

_Frustrated, Kensi bit her lip. "This can't be it. Contact who he was investigating in his cover. You don't really think he was coincidentally abducted while he just so happened to be undercover, do you?"_

_"Teller could've planned the date of his abduction to correspond with his assignment to throw us off. You mentioned that he felt as though he was being watched and that he mentioned needing to meet with someone. We were thinking that after he left your house, his car was shot at, blowing two of the tires. Teller and his cartel buddies shot at him, possibly hit him, went to snatch his body, and then Deeks shot, possibly hitting one or two of his abductors which would account for the blood that wasn't his type. They later detonated the bomb via phone, the footage already in place."_

_"And?"_

_"What do you mean, 'And'?" Hetty wanted to know. "That's it."_

_Kensi tried to suppress her huff, anger bubbling inside of her. "Where does this leave Deeks? That body obviously isn't his. The video footage probably isn't even from that building. He's alive." Dammit, it felt good for her to say that out loud. He was alive. He was coming home to her._

_"Ms. Blye." Hetty closed her eyes, the grief as evident as it had been since he was reported dead. "This does not change his status. They took him, and if the bullets didn't kill him they tortured him to death later. His remains are probably long gone. I'm sorry."_

_"No. You're wrong. He's alive."_

_"They would've contacted us by now," Hetty pointed out, her voice shaking as it tried to remain crisp._

_"No, they wouldn't have. It was personal for Teller. They didn't want money, they wanted to torture him."_

_"Not for a year."_

_"Why not?" Kensi felt red hot, almost sick to her stomach. "Why? Teller'd teamed up with a cartel; they could be trying to take advantage of the fact that their buddy abducted a cop. They could be trying to get information out of him."_

_"Ms. Blye, the most we can do is try to find Drake Teller and make him pay for what he has done. I suggest that you try to find him before the LAPD discovers we've been poking around outside of our jurisdiction."_

_"Hetty-"_

_"Go. Find what you can. That is an order." The last part was stern and final, making inexplicable fury bubble into her throat, her vocal cords now tight. It felt almost as if they wanted him to be dead. Just thinking such a thought made her feel like a downright bitch, but she knew that she'd given the idea__ consideration for a reason._

* * *

_Calling Teller a ghost had been an understatement. They'd followed tips regarding the cartel, but nothing popped up on the radar about Drake. At all. It was definitely disconcerting._

_It wasn't even the fact that the person in the video wasn't Deeks, though that did play a part in it. She ignored the excerpt about him more than likely being seriously injured and all of the other damning evidence. She felt it in her gut, in her heart. Deeks was out there. Deeks was alive._

_He would contact her if he could. And since he hadn't, he couldn't. He needed her to save him. He'd saved her so many times, more than she could count. In actuality, it was the least she could do. She was going to bring him home._

_Her newfound hope kept her going, and as Sam and Callen looked into whose body was lying on a steel slate in the morgue, she buried herself in paperwork. Any place they could be keeping him was examined, if not by the team then by her personally._

_But after a month passed and the LAPD found out what they were up to, the case was slowly replaced with a new one. This time, she refused to bury Deeks under other corpses. She needed to find him. She wouldn't rest until she did._

_Since the awkward encounter at her doorstep, Callen had acted as if it never happened. Though she was grateful that he didn't feel uncomfortable, she, however, did. And hanging out with him no longer felt like hanging out with her sibling._

_Now, she could see as plain as day that G liked her as more than a co-worker and friend. Hell, it was obvious. She'd been so bombarded with grief for the twelve months following Deeks' disappearance (yes, disappearance, not murder), she hadn't seen it before. How she hadn't now seemed hard to fathom, the obviousness of his feelings towards her inscribed in every glance that lasted a beat longer than necessary, every seemingly innocent compliment she'd looked over beforehand. _

_She wanted Deeks back, but she also wanted her brother back. Not the man who'd replaced Callen with one sided feelings towards her. And she couldn't help feeling guilty for not shooting down his attraction towards her sooner._

_But over the span of the next few months, she rarely had time to reflect on G, her mind almost always a frenzy of jumbled thoughts about the case, about Deeks possibly being alive, about getting back her fianc__é_. And when it hit month three after the realization that the footage had been tampered with, when Kensi's phone rang in the early hours of the morning, she knew exactly what it meant. Her heart fluttered as she reached for her cell, anticipation squirming in the pit of her stomach. Her gut instinct was on high alert, spiked and suspecting.

_"Hetty? Is it him?"_

_Her silence was all the answer she needed, and she was nearly giddy with exuberance and she leaped off of her mattress. "On my way."_

* * *

_He's alive._

He was being held under conditions that were sealed under something much tighter than lock and key. One out of place car, one cop undercover with an alias dating back to birth and beyond, Deeks was dead. They needed an army to get him back, but at the same time they needed something as discreet as possible. With a security system even Eric couldn't crack, an unobvious attack to retrieve Deeks was nearly impossible.

"We know where he is, and you're saying we can't rescue him?! We can't just sit around and do nothing, Hetty! You know they're going to relocate him if they see that Eric has been hacking through their firewalls."

"I agree, Ms. Blye. But this is a situation that should be handled with care and tedious precision. One wrong move and Mr. Deeks is dead." She took a step closer to Kensi and looked up at her with exhausted eyes. "This is personal, Ms. Blye."

Kensi clenched her jaw. Damn right it was personal. Had been since they'd took Deeks away from them, away from her.

"I will do everything in my power to retrieve Deeks, but we can't even gain a visual on him. The good news is that we have time. If they've kept him alive this long, they shouldn't kill him unexpectedly."

"But _Hetty,_" Kensi begged, nearly hysterical, "he's being tortured. Professionally. _Please._"

The relief that Deeks was most certainly alive had dissipated almost as quickly as it had came when Eric discovered that a world renowned torturer know for his gruesome methods of inflicting anguish was believed to have teamed up with the same cartel Teller had, the one that was holding Deeks. They had the warehouse's address as well; a building that was at first glance indifferent but under closer examination rigged with enough motion detectors to sufficiently protect two dozen moderately sized banks. It was agony to know where he was and have an idea of what he was undergoing but not to be able to rescue him.

"Ms. Blye-" Hetty was interrupted by a ringing phone, and when she looked at her cell, her face dropped and she sighed. "LAPD," she explained.

Kensi could make pretty accurate inferences as to what the conversation was about, and from her educated guesses she could tell that it wasn't good.

When the call was complete, Hetty shook her head slightly. "The LAPD says that if we step into their jurisdiction again they will contact SecNav, which is the last thing we need. They want all of the information about Deeks' case turned over to them immediately."

Kensi growled in frustration, fisting her hands. "Don't tell them anything."

"Ms. Blye, that is not your decision. People's jobs are at stake here."

"Deeks' _life _is at stake, dammit!" She was fuming, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She prayed that she didn't have another panic attack.

Hetty's mouth was a tight line as she dismissed Callen and Sam, turning back to Kensi. "Ms. Blye, a word?"

Dismissing the fact that it was immature, Kensi stomped behind Hetty, following her to a certain corner of OSP that she'd never been to before.

"Before I say anything, give me your badge."

Kensi swallowed. Her badge? Was Hetty firing her? She couldn't, not before she found Deeks. "Hetty-"

"Give me your badge," she repeated, her tone clipped and impatient.

Reluctantly, Kensi handed it over, her heart pounding. She loved her job. It had gotten her through countless tough times, given her family, given her Deeks. And now it was gone.

Hetty's voice was barely audible, and Kensi had to strain to hear. After a while she resorted to lip reading, not even attempting to hear Hetty. "Kensi, there is a bus station's address sitting in Deeks' desk. Go, tell the homeless person sitting near the trashcan that you know me."

"What's going on, Hetty?" Kensi demanded.

"They will help you find Deeks. I did business with them in Serbia nearly thirty three years ago. They are the best of the best. If the LAPD messes this up, which you and me both know is more than likely, we will not lose him."

"But Hetty-"

"This will be easier if you don't ask questions." She laid a wrinkled hand on Kensi's elbow, giving it a small squeeze. "They are good but not foolproof. Be careful."

Kensi closed her eyes momentarily, mulling over the situation in her head. She trusted Hetty, and if Hetty said this was the best shot they had at getting back Deeks, to hell if she wasn't going to try her damndest. "Okay."

She turned to leave, but Hetty caught her wrist. "Godspeed, Ms. Blye."

And Kensi was gone.

* * *

**A/n Alright, finally approaching the climax : ) I'm really ahead and this is fun to write, so expect more frequent updates!  
Since I'm so caught up, I'm going to be using my beta, Maddie aka NCISLAlover24, A LOT. So she's going to need ya'll's moral support!  
Feedback makes it easier to write : ) The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll post the next chapter!  
Thanks to everyone who reads! I love you guys!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/n Thank you guys SO much for all of the feedback last chapter. As promised, here is your earlier than usual update. Enjoy! :)  
Thanks to Maddie!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**

* * *

"I'm Henrietta Lange's friend."

"Oi! What was that, ey? Think you could spare some change, girl?"

Kensi felt her heart sink as she stared down at the filthiest man she'd ever seen, his smile missing three teeth and his odor strong enough to make her gag. Hetty had put Deeks' life in the hands of... this? "No, Henrietta Lange," she repeated louder, tapping her foot impatiently. "Hen-ri-ett-a Lange!"

She watched as the man's eyes narrowed and his crow's feet crinkled slightly, his blue irises twitching. "Henrietta Lange, ey?"

Kensi felt a tiny bit of hope sprout, and she continued quickly. "Yes, Henrietta! I need your help; she sent me."

"She did, now?"

"Yes!" she confirmed.

"Never heard of her."

Kensi felt despair come crashing down on her, the tiny ounce of faith she'd been willing to put in this man shriveling. She'd seen the recognition flash across his face at the mention of Hetty, she could see through his lies, his claims that Hetty wasn't one of his acquaintances. "Please. I need your help. My partner, her agent, he went missing. He's being tortured, please." She was desperate, her need to get Deeks back making her shake with anxiety. "You have to help him."

He examined her for a long time, probably noticing the bags beneath her eyes, the gauntness of her face, the defeat in her posture.

"See that alley over there?" Kensi nodded as she looked in the direction he was pointing, finding a rather ominous dark walkway situated between two warehouses. "Knock on the third door on the right. Say 'Horseradish'."

"Horseradish?" Okay, if she wasn't convinced this was total bullshit before, she was now.

"I was hungry when I came up with it," he explained, exasperated. "Cut me some slack. You want your beau back, just say it."

She nodded, not in the mood to question his antics. "Horseradish, gotcha."

After a few minutes, she found herself knocking on the door of the warehouse on the right and saying "Horseradish" to a petite blond that was younger than she was. The girl rapid-fired unintelligible french to some unseen person before turning back to Kensi, her voice thickly accented. The homeless man had had a Canadian drawl. She wondered if it was mandatory to have an accent to enter.

"And who might you be?"

"A friend of Henrietta Lange. I need your help."

"Henrietta?" the woman asked, pulling out a thick cigar and lighting it. "Never heard of her."

Kensi heard a voice, undeniably German, yell, "Henrietta Lange? Henrietta Lange!" An elderly man with a gut that was more than likely alcohol induced stumbled to the door, something resembling a sausage in his hand. "You know of my Hetty? Vere is she?"

"She sent me in regards of an abducted LAPD liaison with NCIS." Kensi was beginning to grow antsy; every passing second Deeks was experiencing more and more pain, pain that the sooner she could find him, the sooner would stop.

"LAPD? Did I hear LAPD? Aw, dammit! Pedro, what did I say 'bout keepin' those damn cops in San Lucas?"

"Ey, Levi! Calm down, boy! She is a friend, a dear, dear friend. Come," the German man ushered, opening up the door further. "Allow me to introduce myself, yes? I am Emerish, but Henrietta calls me Emo. And that is Elisamarie."

"Liz," the bobbed woman corrected, pouring three shots of something clear and fizzy into shot glasses.

"I'm Kensi. I work with NCI-"

"You have se most stunning eyes, you know that? Vhy, I am sure you get that all the time-"

"Emo, shut up," Liz interrupted, mumbling something in French before looking at Kensi. "You must excuse him. He is a fat, insufferable bastard. Continue."

Kensi was more than a little thrown off of her game, but she tried to remain hopeful, kept telling herself Hetty led her to these people for a reason. "My partner, Martin Deeks, was taken captive by a man named Drake Teller. We can't crack the security to the place where they're keeping him."

"Sat vill be no problem. Levi, Vakasa, and Dragos- se best you vill find. Don't you vorry, ve vill find sis Martin in no time! I let you talk vith Levi and Pedro, yes?"

Kensi followed as Liz led her down a cramped hallway into a very large room that reminded her of the MTAC room that Vance was usually in when they talked with him via video. Technology covered nearly every open space, and eleven or so people sat in front of computers, most of them talking in a jumble of accents and languages. They were all either exceptionally young or appeared nearly senile with old age.

"Pedro, Levi, viennent ici!" Liz turned to Kensi, puffing out a large cloud of smoke from her cigar. "What was his name? You say, erm, Deeks?"

"Martin Deeks, yes."

"Tell them everyzing you know. I will hack into ze NCIS and ze LAPD."

It was strange to Kensi how she could just mention the name Henrietta and the people in this building already trusted her enough to tell her that they were about to do something illegal.

"I'm Levi, this is my buddy Pedro."

"Kensi," she introduced, shaking his outstretched hand.

"My pleasure, ma'am. Now, think you can explain to us what ya need us to do?"

She explained to the two men everything she could about Deeks' case, and even though it was now over a year old, not a minuscule detail had dulled from her memory. They listened intently, writing down notes, occasionally shouting information to the people in the room as she spoke. When she recited the address to the warehouse he was being held, they interrupted her.

"Woah, woah, woah. Tienes the address? Senorita, you should have just said."

"Ya'll," Levi shouted, "We gotta address!"

After she'd delivered the cartel name and where Deeks was being held, the next few hours were a blur of investigating and typing, and Kensi struggled to be of some use. Finally, when the clock neared three AM, people's fingers slowed, monitors were turned off. Kensi was wide awake, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. But when Emo patted her on the shoulder telling her to go to sleep, she followed him to a cot in a dark room anyways, wanting to tell him to get back to work.

"I know it is hard to sleep, but sink of it sis vay, tomorrow you vill have your partner back, yes? I promise. Ve are not even a centimeter away from cracking the motion sensors. And ve vill vant you to go into se building and retrieve him, of course! So you must be rested, see?"

She smiled at the old man, and as he turned to walk away, she stopped him. "Who are you guys, really?"

"You can be trusted, I am sure?" the man asked, his kind face lighting with an acceptable amount of suspicion, the first skepticism she'd seen since she arrived.

"Yes," she answered honestly, sitting down on the edge of the cot.

"This organization vas Hetty's idea. She founded us near se end of se Cold War, when se federal agencies vere failing us. Ve find se best of se best and bring sem in, almost as Hetty does wis all se foster children and how se Soviets did vith seir children. Ven se CIA is not, how you Americans say, 'cutting it', sen ve are here."

Kensi nodded, still more than a little dumbfounded. At this point, she didn't care who found Deeks as long as someone did. And if that 'someone' was an impromptu, wannabe CIA, then so be it.

A beat of silence passed as the old man peered down at her. "Your partner, sis Martin, you love him, yes?"

Kensi didn't answer him, her eyes finding the floor. Much like Hetty, Emo seemed to possess a sixth sense. His knowing eyes bored into her head, and she could feel him watching her.

"I lost a partner once. I did not mourn for him as you do for sis Martin. Love makes sings much more complicated."

Silence, once again, was the only answer he received from Kensi. Emo nodded.

"Yes, vell. I also believe in vat Robert Frost said about love being irresistible. Se desire is one not easily ignored, am I right?"

Again, no reply.

"Very vell. Rest up, dear."

She stayed sitting on her bed for a long time before finally moving to a laying position. She stared at the ceiling and didn't fall asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

She'd managed to sleep for an hour during the night before a stunning Japanese woman woke her up from a restless nap with a gentle shake to her shoulders.

Today was the day. She could feel it.

One way or another, she was going to get Deeks back.

The Japanese woman whose name was Yumi led her to a tiny plastic dining room table where Levi, Emo, the homeless man from the day before, Pedro, Liz, and a few other exotic looking people were already sitting, what looked like blueprints laid on the table, coffee and an assortment of breakfast food surrounding it. "Buenos días!" Pedro greeted happily, and Kensi nodded with a small smile in response, wanting to get started as soon as possible.

They went over coordinates, time limitations, entrances, exits, everything. And then they reviewed it and revisited it. And they did it again. And again. When it was nearly noon, an elderly woman with soft green eyes and an unpronounceable Russian name nodded. "This will have to do."

Emo stood, stretching. "You're right." He grabbed a large, dark duffle bag, standing. "Questions?"

When no one replied, he smiled. "Sat's vat I sought."

* * *

"Ya'll, listen," Levi said, his voice hushed. "'Bout a mile up this here road is where Martin is. Me, Kensi 'n Yumi are gonna go on. Kensi, I'ma point out where the entrance is, Yumi, you gotta scope the perimeter, and I'll take out any guards, nice 'n quiet. Pedro, you hear?" he asked the earwig.

"Sí. I give la señal, comprende?"

"I don't know what you just said, but give us the signal, 'kay?"

"Sí."

Silent minutes passed as they soundlessly tread towards the warehouse, and Kensi's heart was about to burst out of her chest it was racing so quickly. She couldn't lessen the hammer of her pulse; it was as if her body could sense that Deeks was near. Alive. And that fact was something that Kensi would be eternally grateful for until the day that she died.

"Alright," Levi mouthed. Now Yumi and Kensi were depending on lipreading, a skill that she'd told them she had beforehand. "Wait."

And then Pedro's voice, clear and affirmative, tickled the inside of their ears. "Now."

Levi silently clapped them both on the back, nodding. Kensi set off, her footsteps quiet as she trudged across the overgrown lawn, stepping over thorns and avoiding what Pedro told her were motion sensors. He had somehow managed to gain a visual through one of the many cameras, something Eric hadn't been able to do. If she survived this, she told herself that she'd have to get them together for lunch one day.

"Kensi, escuchar a me?"

"Sí."

"Voy a make the video stop for un momento. I tell you when, comprende?"

"Sí."

"Bueno."

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her and froze in place, moving flat against the warehouse's wall, watching as the shadow inched nearer. She took out her silencer, knowing that everything was depending on precise, premeditated timing. 'Everything' being Deeks' life.

"Go," Pedro's voice demanded, but she couldn't move. The shadow was approaching nearer still; even the tiniest of moves could give her away. "Kensi, what are you doing? You have to move! Quince seconds!"

_Damn._

Suddenly, Kensi heard a thump and saw Levi peek his head around the corner, giving her a silent thumbs up. She nodded her gratitude, prancing pass the now dead body of the guard, two bullet holes standing side by side on his forehead. Levi's aim was impressively (and terrifyingly) deadly.

She entered through a window, drawing her weapon and hastily shooting two guards before they had the chance to turn around. At the sound of their bodies hitting the ground, another guard approached, but he was dead before he could look Kensi in the eye.

"Derecho, derecho. Bueno. Ahora izquierda. Derecho. He es en the next room."

Kensi took a deep breath. This was it. Her partner, the love of her life, _her Deeks_ had made it.

She wondered if things would ever be the same for them. If they had ruined him.

She wasn't giving up on him nor was she allowing him to refuse her help, much like Jack had. She was bringing him home, and he wasn't going to leave her again.

She loved him. Love conquers and lives, and it doesn't die unless the people it possesses lets it. Kensi would die before her adoration for him did. As Shakespeare had said, "The course of true love never did run smooth." And Deeks and Kensi's love was anything but a bump-less ride. However, it was, in fact, true. Love as honestly true as theirs does not so much as fade, even minutely. It endures torture, separation, loss, hurt, and still stands strong.

"Turn the knob... now."

Kensi turned the knob.

Her head grew light with a weird mix of despair and relief unlike any she'd ever felt before, the contrasted emotions making it hard for her to catch a breathe.

Respiratory problems were the last things on her mind.

"Deeks," she choked out, a silent sob escaping her mouth. "Oh, God."

And then a terrifying thought struck her and she raced to the limp body of her partner, cutting the ropes that bound him to the wall with her father's old pocket knife, catching his form before it could collapse against the hard ground. She laid him gently against the wall, pressing two fingers to his neck, waiting with anticipation for a sign that she wouldn't have to endure the past fifteen months over again. And when she finally felt the tiniest thrum beneath her index finger, she barely suppressed a loud cry that would have alerted the guards.

Deeks' cheeks were sunken in, his beard thicker than she'd ever seen it and his hair nearly shoulder length. Swelling and discoloration on his face made it hard to identify him, but his face wasn't one she'd forget, no matter how brutalized it had been. Blood did not just trickle from his forehead, it gushed. His back was sticky and red, injuries from what she could only assume were whip lashes covering nearly every inch of his shoulders and spinal area. Filthy rags (barely) covered his body, and his left arm was purple and hanging at a strange angle, most definitely broken. A collection of burn marks and lacerations made up for any part of his body that wasn't either broken or whipped raw. Acid scars ate away parts of his calves, and his feet, from what she could see of them, were swollen.

But he had a pulse. And at the moment, that was the only thing keeping her sane.

Then his eyes fluttered open.

God, it was the single most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Crystal blue, vivid and decorated with specs of emerald, bore into her hazel and black, the sparkle in his irises dulled but not completely faded. He was still _there_. He was _awake._

One of his trembling, bloody fingers lifted to her cheek. "Fern?"

_Don't you dare call me Fern. _

That one damned word was her undoing.

She felt tears boil over the brim of her eyes as she caught his hand in hers. "I'm right here, Deeks."

He smiled.

* * *

**A/n Thanks to Maddie for the edit! And yes, finally, you guys' patience has paid off!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	17. Chapter 17

His eyes were unfocused, and it was obvious that he wasn't completely conscious. When Pedro's voice, loud and panicked, boomed into her ear, she froze, trying to untangle the jumbled, accented warning. "Kensi, you have to go! There are bombs, they know you're there! Forty-five seconds!"

She squeezed Deeks' hand, trying to make him zone out of the trance he was in. "Deeks." When his eyes dropped instead of raising to look at her, she gently patted his face. "C'mon, Deeks. Look at me. Can you walk?"

Her only answer was Pedro screaming, "Trienta seconds!"

"Deeks!" she repeated louder. "Can you walk?!"

His head lolled to the side, eyes now closed, remnants of his smile from earlier still painted onto his disfigured face. _I'll take that as a 'no'._

She prayed that she wasn't hurting him, lifting his alarmingly light body into her arms bridal style. "Alright, Deeks. I got you."

She ran as fast as she could, noticing how void of guards the hallway was. They must have been alerted of the detonation that was scheduled beforehand. Thankful that she didn't have to dodge bullets _and_ carry an injured Deeks to safety, she moved as fast as she could, Deeks' dead weight limiting her speed considerably.

"Diez, nueve, ocho..."

She could see the door.

"Siete, seis, cinco..."

She tightened her grip on Deeks, reaching for the knob.

"Cuatro, tres, dos..."

The door knob was turned. Kensi jumped.

She didn't hear Pedro's voice announce the final number of the countdown.

* * *

A groan escaped her lips as she inhaled sharply, her back and head killing her and her arm sporting a bloody gash. But she forgot about her injuries completely when her mind flashed to him.

Apprehension growing in her gut, she raised her head, gasping at the pain that shot through her spine. Laboring through her exhalations, she forced herself to roll onto her stomach, army crawling her way around the debris and flames. "Deeks!" she screamed, ignoring the cry of protest her back gave as she spoke. "Deeks!"

That's when she saw it.

Sticking out from behind a pile of rubble were two feet, swelling and purple. It had to be him.

Panting and moaning at every involuntary move she made, eventually she had scooted her way to his side, noting the collection of newly found lacerations and bruises. Red discolored the blond of his longer than ordinary hair, red that didn't belong to the preexisting forehead wound. She held her breath, sticking one hand behind his head to feel for the damage done. And when her fingers came back sticky and crimson, she knew it wasn't good.

Finding a pulse on his neck would've been the appropriate path to go by, but she wasn't in her right mind. Between the falling adrenaline, getting Deeks back, her injuries, everything, she could hardly function, much less do things reasonably. And at that moment she could only think about how badly she needed to hear his heart beat. Resting her head against his chest, she listened.

Fire shot through her shoulder blades, burning and stinging as she fought to remain conscious. The pain was intolerable, and she slipped. She closed her eyes and stopped resisting, her head on his heart.

* * *

Her brain felt as if it had been replaced with cotton balls, and her mouth was dry. It took a few minutes to gather her thoughts, and when she did they were accompanied by an annoying ringing in her ears.

Her memory came in bursts: foreigners, Hetty, warehouses, explosions, Deeks..._ Deeks?_ "Deeks?"

No answer. Which, considering she was in an empty hospital room, wasn't too abnormal.

"Deeks!" she screamed. She was bleary and terrified about her partner. She needed him.

How many times she repeated his name before the nurse came in was hard to guess at. She certainly hadn't been counting.

"Where is he?!" she demanded. When they didn't reply, she yelled at the top of her lungs, "Where is Deeks?! Where?! Dammit! Where is he?!"

"Ma'am, I need you to calm down," one of the nurses told her, her voice sickeningly sweet as she checked Kensi's vitals.

Kensi wailed again, "Where is he?"

"The man you came with just got out of surgery. He's in the ICU."

"How bad?" Kensi wanted to know, desperation coursing through her body as she cried. "How bad is it?"

The nurse shot her a sympathetic look, attending to her IVs. "We need to see how he does for a while. It's hard to tell."

She knew that was nurse code for, 'It's not looking good,' but let the nurse's lie slide as she worked on composing herself, trying to find a tiny piece of sanity to hang on to. Something that made sense.

Recalling that the guards in the building had escaped, Kensi frantically called after the nurse as she finished her work and started retreating to the door. "Wait! That man works with the LAPD. I need you to get a security detail on him immediately, contact the local authorities, and I need a phone. Quickly."

"Miss, can you tell me what's going on, please?"

"Not now... just... just..." She was breathing heavily now, her head light as she struggled to inhale. "Do as I said."

The nurse, noticing her condition, frowned and approached her, taking her stethoscope off her neck. "No!" Kensi all but growled, trying to rein in her breathing. "Go, call a security detail!"

The nurse hesitated, and Kensi groaned. "C'mon, go! Now!"

With a simple nod, the nurse was off, leaving a panting Kensi on the bed. Sweat covered her body, forming a thin sheen across her forehead. She tried to move, yelping in discomfort as her back pounded with pain. She wondered if she was paralyzed.

After a few minutes of deep breaths and limited movement, she finally calmed down. She could feel the dryness of her cracking lips, her dehydration pairing horribly with the cottony feel of her head. Somewhere between the lack of water and the paranoia of losing Deeks again, she was overcome with an irrepressible urge to make sure he was okay.

Clenching her teeth and allowing a tiny "Ah!" to escape her lips as her back protested her movements, she ripped out the IV, forcing her feet to move her body. Her head swam as she set up, and she ignored the blood that colored the bandage on her arm. She needed a weapon- something, anything. She'd came in with a gun, but it was probably long confiscated by now.

Limping as quickly as she could towards the ICU section of the hospital, she avoided the nurses as often as she could, hoping that they didn't see the trail of blood that her ripped out IV had caused. _Come on, Kensi. One foot in front of the other._

She opened doors silently, peeking into them long enough to see who was in the room before closing it again. When she turned the fifth knob on the left, she tried not to gasp at the sight she was subjected to.

A man showing no resemblance to Deeks except for the color of his hair laid in the hospital bed, face swollen and disfigured, arm in a sling across his chest. The rest of his body was covered, but what she could see from the top half conveyed the message perfectly- it wasn't good. His forehead was bulging, covered in a thick, gauzy bandage. She couldn't see the back of his head, and she didn't think she wanted to.

She approached him, ghosting her hand over his cheek. "God, Deeks..." Fighting to keep the tears at bay, she gently picked up the hand that she guessed she should have considered his 'Good hand' because it wasn't in a cast. Then again, it _was_ bandaged and stitched, his hand puffy around the lacerations. His fingernails were purple, and she figured it was because they'd been pried away from their nail beds as a method of torture.

She turned it over in hers, her movements soft and careful. He was so drugged that she doubted he could feel anything anyways, much less his hand in hers. Willing away the tears that threatened to flow, she bit her lip.

Eventually the doctors discovered where she was. She put up a fight, but they managed to tranquilize her. She wouldn't have allowed them to get that far had she not forced them to assign a guard to his room beforehand. And even as her last bit of consciousness faded away, she wished that she could be there to protect him.

* * *

Her tongue felt like sandpaper inside of her mouth, and the first thing she requested when she opened her eyes was water, her voice scratchy and rough. She downed the whole bottle without coming up for air, which, in retrospect, wasn't the best thing for her head injury that needed as much regularity in its breathing schedule as possible.

The second thing she asked for, of course, was Deeks. "Where is he? Has anything happened with the guards?"

"He is improving. So are you, for that matter. Don't you want to know what's wrong with you?"

Kensi ignored the nurse, trying not to wince as she shook her head. "Hey, there was this injury he sustained after the explosion, on his head? How is that? And there were two other people around at the time of the explosion?"

"No other people, just you two. A phone call was made, giving us an address. That was it."

"My... erm... stuff?" She didn't know if she should reveal that she was an agent yet or not, and bringing up a gun would certainly unearth questions that she would warily have to answer. "Was any of it recovered?"

The nurse frowned. "You had no ID, no phone, wallet, purse... Him, either. His injuries seem to have been regularly inflicted over the course of maybe a year and a half. We need answers."

"I need to make a phone call, then I need you to give me some release forms. I'll tell you whatever you need to know-" _Though I'll probably be lying, _"-if you just let me make one call."

The nurse narrowed her eyes, so Kensi tried one last tactic. "Please."

Finally, after her last half-assed attempt, a phone was given. She dialed the number that she knew by heart, and the phone answered on the second ring. "Hetty."

"Oh, thank God you're okay! We were so worried."

Kensi felt herself smile for the first time in a while as she delivered the news, her happiness genuine. "We got him back."

The line was silent for a moment, and when Hetty could finally speak, her words were shaky. "He's...?"

She felt her bottom lip quiver as she recalled the months that she had spent in agony, and for the first time she put herself in Hetty's shoes. She'd lived a lonely life but had devoted it to the greater good. Though she'd never had the opportunity at motherhood, she'd been filling the maternal role to many orphans and agents void of their ideal parents. Agents much like Deeks.

She'd lost one too many agents before, and Kensi could only imagine the exuberance she must be feeling to hear that one of her surrogate sons was coming back.

"He's alive, Hetty. It's done." And then, she repeated herself, the corners of her mouth tugging into another watery grin. "It's done."

* * *

Discharge papers were signed later that day, much to Hetty and the nurses dismay. Deeks still lay unconscious in his hospital room. And she, she never moved from his side.

Ray was informed of his best friend's status. Nell, Callen, Sam, Eric, and, needless to say, Hetty, had all stopped by to see him. Kensi had watched as each one of the team members were overcome with comfort and hurt, their eyes twinkling with the revelation that their friend was back, but their face downcast, mortified by his appearance.

Days passed. Deeks was declared comatose. Still, Kensi did not move.

Hetty visited every day after work, occasionally staying for hours. On the third day, she brought a pack of playing cards and some hot tea she'd managed to bring in a thermos. After well over five hours had passed of card playing, idle talk, and careful ignoring of the elephant in the room, or, in this case, the comatose patient in the room, Hetty stood to leave. She squeezed Kensi's shoulder, staring down at Kensi's and Deeks' hands, the way hers held tightly and his stayed limp.

"He doesn't know you're here," she whispered softly, watching as Kensi's head dropped, her words having been like a knife to her abdomen. "Go home. Get a shower, some real food, some sleep. I'll stay with him." She smiled down at Kensi, her grin reassuring. "He's not going anywhere, I promise_._"

Kensi was quiet for a moment before nodding slowly, steadily. "I'll be back by one."

* * *

Visiting hours weren't a problem. With Deeks' abductor still on the loose, one flash of their badges and they were unquestioningly guided to his room.

And oh, Kensi was more than willing to be his security detail. When the son of a bitch who'd destroyed her partner was finally stupid enough to show his face, she couldn't wait. Even now, she was more than trigger happy. She was trigger fucking _ecstatic._

So when Callen called saying that they had Intel that Teller and a few of his buddies were headed their way, she was almost giddy. The last thing Callen told her was to pull the trigger for the right reasons. To not do anything stupid.

She would pull the trigger for the right reasons, alright. Her 'right reason' was sitting across from her, completely oblivious to the outside world, locked inside a coma.

Though they'd gotten Deeks back, vengeance was still the only thing she could think about. And in mere minutes, she told herself that she would finally be getting it.

* * *

**A/n Two more chapters left! The more reviews, the quicker I update (they're already written :)  
Thanks Maddie! Thanks readers/reviewers :) Love you guys!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	18. Chapter 18

She kissed his forehead, letting her lips linger on his skin for a beat too long.

The doctors told her he couldn't sense her around him, couldn't feel her. She refused to believe it.

He had to know she was here. He had to.

Swallowing, she passed one of the many policemen that now swarmed the inside of the hospital, preparing themselves for the rapidly approaching firefight. Callen, Sam, and the SWAT team would be there any minute, but they had to keep the outside of the building low key as to not scare away Deeks' abductors.

Kensi hoped that the man who had tortured him would tag along for the adrenaline, gore, and chance at shooting a few officers as a final score. After she watched the life drain out of Teller, she would shoot Deeks' torturer in the lungs, watch him gasp for air, drown in his own blood.

"Hey," she called to the man that stood at the end of Deeks' hallway, flashing her badge. "I'm Marty's security detail. Call some back-up, they're headed for him."

The uniformed man nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about, and Kensi took out her hand gun, a .22 that was only immediately deadly if hit in a fatal area. If hit elsewhere, it was still effective, though the person's last few minutes would hurt like the hell they were headed for.

Positioning herself beside a glass door, her slender body hidden by a column beside it, she took out her weapon, watching from the window as Callen and Sam parked discretely by a trash can.

A white van pulled up, and Kensi watched as a dozen or so men climbed out of it, dressed to the nines. She didn't move until she could clearly see the guns holstered in their suits, and when she did, she whispered to her earwig, "It's them. They're armed."

Callen and Sam were moving in when she was, and after announcing "NCIS! Hands in the air!" all hell broke loose. Fully automatic AK-47s, M249s and other assault riffles were drawn, and things quickly turned bloody, not just for the cartel.

Kensi struggled to find Teller, dodging behind the trash can as bullets came flying her way. She took a quick shot and must've hit her target because she stopped hearing bullets ricochet off of the metal waste bin. Taking a deep breath, attempting to calm down her racing heart, she peered out from her cover momentarily, searching for Drake. And finally, when she saw his hideous, over-gelled hair, she took aim, watching as he collapsed.

The bullets had stopped flying, the people who were hurt (luckily none of the team) were attended to. She raced from her hiding spot, kneeling beside the man who was fading fast, blood spouting from his mouth. She shook his shoulders. "Where's the man you hired to torture Deeks?"

The man smiled, his eyes manic and genuinely happy. It bothered her.

She grabbed his neck. "Where?!"

The last word he mumbled before his eyes rolled to the back of his head was, "Gone."

Kensi growled, kicking the corpse of Teller as she sat up. "Dammit!" she cursed, kicking the shell of the man again. And again. And again.

Sam pulled her away from him in deadly grip as she wiggled and thrashed to get away from him. He dragged her back to the hotel, her body never ceasing to make a moot attempt at escaping his arms.

"Kensi," Sam soothed. "C'mon, it's okay."

Callen laid a hand on her shoulder, and she looked through tired eyes at his own. Something in his expression told her that her brother was back. The memories were lost in their past, left behind them.

Kensi shook her head, trying to shun away the dampness stinging at the back of her eyes. "I want it _over._ I want him back."

They both knew who 'he' was. And though she had Deeks back, they knew that she meant in every sense. Awake and healthy. The man lying in the hospital bed may have been breathing, but he sure as hell wasn't living. Not really.

"He's comin' back. We're not gonna give up on him this easily. He's stubborn, remember? He came back to us against all odds. Of course he's gonna do it again. He's gotta show off."

She closed her eyes, voicing her deepest fear for the first time. "What if he's not the same?"

Callen squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "He's still Deeks, Kensi. Underneath everything he's been through, he's Deeks."

* * *

After Hetty had left that night, Kensi pulled her chair even closer to his hospital bed, her knees now touching the side of it. She grabbed his hand, staring at it as she caressed it with her own, the bandages that covered his fingers clean and white.

"I want you back, Deeks," she told him, her voice piercing the silence of the room, obstructing the steady _beep-beep-beep_ of the machines.

Sniffling, she placed his hand over his heart so he could feel his own pulse, remind himself that he was alive.

She closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair.

* * *

She startled as a voice pulled her out of unconsciousness, wincing as she sat up too quickly, her back cramping and her head pounding.

But as she realized that the only other person in the room with her was Deeks, she disregarded her pain, staring at the bed in awe. "Deeks?"

It was quiet, and she was about to admonish herself for hallucinating when she heard it. A tiny, nearly inaudible, "Princess?"

Her heart pounded as she leaned forward, her fingers barely ghosting over his cheek bones. Sure enough, as she gazed down at him, his eyes were wide and sparkling. Just like she'd remembered.

"Oh my God, Deeks..." She barely stopped the cry of relief that threatened to escape her throat, and she disbelievingly stared down at him, lost for words.

His mouth was turned into a crooked half smile, the one that she'd dreamed about so many times in the past month, the one that was so cute it was infuriating.

"Come here," he breathed. She leaned close to him, and he whispered directly into her ear, "I need..."

"Need?" she asked, worried. "What do you need?"

"A haircut."

The silence was loaded for a good three seconds, and then she was laughing. Then she was crying. And finally, she settled on a mixture of both.

He reached for her hand with his, and just looking at the movement of his swollen hand made her cringe. But his touch was gentle, his smile real. And in that moment, it was more than she could have asked for.

She finally recovered enough to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his nose, her lips feather soft. "I've missed you so much. Dammit, Deeks, don't do that again. Ever."

"What, get captured? Yeah, of course not. No problem."

"I'm serious."

"Me too. I will seriously try not to ever get captured and held prisoner again. Ever. Unless, of course, much like this time, I have no say in the matter. Pinky swear." He stared down at his hand and grimaced. "This is where I'd shake your pinky finger."

_Still Deeks._

"So, how old am I now, Kensi? Like, fourty nine? I had to have been gone for at least, what, fifteen years, right?"

She shook her head. "It's been about a year and a half."

He raised an eyebrow but grimaced as he discovered his forehead wound, raising a mummified hand to his head. "Felt like forever," he whispered. Seeming to break out of his trance momentarily, he groaned. "I bet I look like hell. I already know that I look like Zach Galifianakis' long lost brother."

"Just a tad more Goldy Locks-ish than usual," she said dismissively, noticing how much she'd missed their banter, the sound of his voice. "No biggy."

"No biggy? I feel like a blond gorilla."

She grinned, watching as he tried to move, his face contorting in pain as he did so. She scooted towards him, placing a hand on his cast. "You need a nurse?"

"I need shaving cream," he replied, ignoring her concern. "And a sponge bath would be nice, if you uh, are willing." He winked, an alternative to his signature wagging of the eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. How long had it been since she'd rolled her eyes?

"I'm calling the nurses. I think you're delirious."

Pressing the call button, she returned to her spot at his hospital bed, and he reached for her hand. After nearly two weeks of holding his limp one in hers, she couldn't describe how it felt to have his fingers do what hers had been doing night and day, twelve days in a row. "For the record, I missed you too." He smiled up at her, his irises twinkling beautifully. "I missed Monty and surfing, but I think you topped the list."

She felt a grin form in response to his, and she gave his hand a minuscule squeeze. "Glad I came before your sex wax and dog." She kissed his cheek, savoring the fact that she still could.

The nurse walking in interrupted them, and Kensi quickly jolted away from Deeks, though the nurse's eyes were full of suspicion. "He's awake," Kensi informed her, ignoring the fact that she was stating the obvious.

Nodding, the medical examiner checked Deeks' vitals. "This is quite impressive, Mr. Deeks," the woman commented. "We weren't expecting you to wake up for at least another week."

"I'm just that good," he joked, winking at Kensi.

"Apparently so. That seems to be the only explanation. This is nothing short of a miracle, honestly," the nurse said.

"Think I can go home within the next few hours?" Deeks asked, eager.

The girl laughed a little, shaking her head. "The head trauma that was the cause of the coma wasn't the only damage you experienced. Patience. You're lucky if you get released in a day or two. For now, we'll take you in for an MRI."

Sighing, he looked past the girl at the door, an extremely apparent tell that he wanted to leave the hospital. She didn't blame him; a year and a half of not sleeping in his own bed, not having the homey comfort of your residence surrounding you, sounded unbearable.

The nurse prepared Deeks to be rolled away, and Kensi ran her fingers over his as he was wheeled out. He smiled at her, saying, "Don't worry, Fern. I'll be back."

* * *

**A/n One more chapter left! I know you guys are looking forward to angst, and trust me, it won't stay this sunny in Densi paradise.**  
**Thanks to all you guys! Love you! Thanks Maddie!**  
**XOXO-**  
**Cierra**


	19. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Returning Deeks to his apartment had been one of the best experiences of her life. Seeing the relief flood over his features, watching his eyes light up as Monty nearly tackled him to the floor, had made her chest ten times lighter.

She'd stayed with him. Before everything took a turn for the worst, he'd basically been living with her, going home only to grab miscellaneous items. Since the first night she decided to visit the apartment, she hadn't really left. Now she was all but moved into his place, his complex seemingly the only location where she could find an escape from reality over the past year.

She knew he was trying to act normal. And hell, she understood needing regularity better than anybody. But she was worried about him.

He didn't talk about it. He didn't clue her into anything that he'd experienced. Occasionally, his eyes would glaze over, his back would go rigid. She knew that he was back in that damned building, having who knows what inflicted on him.

But she was his anchor, laying her palm flat against his shoulder blade, kissing his neck when the memories got the best of him.

The more time that passed, the worse he got. When he'd come back at first, Kensi figured he was just happy to be alive. Eventually, he fell so deep into his tormented past that he was hardly himself anymore. It killed her, and she knew it demolished him, not having the ability to snap out of his trance.

He fell into silence, something she thought she'd never live to see. It became more routine for him to sit on the couch and stare at a muted television, eyes fixed on the wall instead of the screen. He'd leave sometimes, and it would constantly terrify her, the possibility that he could not be coming back. When he did- and thank God he always _did _return- his knuckles would be mutilated, his hands yellow and blue.

Nightmares, probably more gruesome than she could imagine, woke him at night. The first one had shattered her, seeing how much anguish he was in, knowing that as hard as she tried, she couldn't completely pull him out of his troubles.

He woke her up one night, thrashing and covered in sweat, whimpering like a scared child.

"Deeks," she assured. "I'm right here."

She felt the dread building in her throat as she watched him suffer, watched him fade away from her. She pulled him close, stroking back his damp hair as he buried his face in her neck, truly crying for the first time since he'd returned.

"I hate this," he wailed. "I hate this!"

She kissed his head, unaware of what else to do. She was desperate, wanting to stop his pain but having no idea how to.

"I want to make it go away," she whispered, her voice muffled against his hair. She felt her heart catch in her throat as his body shook, his arms closing around her as he held her close, clutching onto her like she was his life preserver. "I wish I could." Tears dripped from her eyes, landing on his golden tresses. She felt the warm drops work their way down her cheek, falling off of her jaw.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, fighting to catch a breath. "I'm you have to see this."

She rubbed his back, caressing his spine. "Don't be." Her reassurances felt incomplete, but she didn't know what to add.

Watching as his sobs become fewer and spaced further apart, she placed her lips so close to his ear that his skin tickled her mouth when she spoke, her voice soft. "You know I love you, don't you?"

His head moved against her shoulder, and she could feel rather than see him nod. She lifted up his face, cupping his jaw with her hand, savoring the scratch of his now cleanly cut scruff. Kissing him on the lips gently, she pulled back, smiling. "I love you."

Dammit, it felt so good for her to say those words out loud.

Something lit in his eyes at her confession, and he managed to grin in return, unwiped tears glistening on his cheeks. "I love you, too."

Her heart fluttered, and then he was the one holding her close to him, close enough that she could hear his heart beat under her ear. It was easily the most comforting sound she'd heard in her life.

She was nearly asleep when she heard his voice, distant and regretful, tell her, "I just hate that you're going through this with me."

Shaking her head firmly, she placed her fingers over his heart, feeling it pound steadily beneath her touch. "I wouldn't leave you for anything. I hate seeing you in pain, but I want to help you. You're not getting rid of me. Ever. Sorry. Might as well get used to me."

He chuckled, obviously grateful for the comic relief. He hated serious, always had. And lately, he couldn't cut the role as the class clown. It was disconcerting seeing a man go from annoyingly happy to constantly depressed. His voice balanced, his words carefully chosen, he started, "I'm... glad that you're not going anywhere. I think."

She raised an eyebrow, a smile on her lips. "You _think_?"

But he was serious, his grin faded. "I don't want to hurt you like-" He sighed, tightening his arms that encased her waist, pulling her closer still. "Like Jack did."

"You're not him," she reminded Deeks. It was true- Jack had been in a completely different state than Deeks was. Though he too was distressed, he was cold. She knew that when he left he didn't love her. She swallowed, thinking. If Deeks associated himself with Jack then he was probably contemplating everything that had happened, and he knew enough to realize that the thing that had broken Kensi's heart the most had been when he'd left.

Her heart raced as she considered everything, trying to get into his mind, put herself in his shoes. If she was him, she'd leave. She'd spare him the experience of her recovery. Terrified, praying that Deeks wasn't thinking like she would be had their positions been swapped, she barely squeaked out, "You wouldn't leave like him."

She had no idea what happened to Jack after he left. It killed her everyday to think about the fact that he was suffering alone. And seeing that happen to Deeks, knowing that she hadn't been good enough, that her failure was at his expense...

"Not willingly, no."

Kensi had a tendency of getting angry when she was scared. A coping mechanism, something of that sort. So the flash of indignation accompanied by trepidation wasn't completely foreign to her. Back stiff, she held her breath. "Willingly?"

"I don't want to hurt you. You shouldn't have to carry my baggage for me."

"Listen to me," she demanded, her voice heated. "You have no idea how I felt when you left. They told me you were _dead_. I went to your funeral. I couldn't think straight, I couldn't consume anything but alcohol. Never, _ever _do that again. Especially not now. You can't just... leave." At that point, she was crying. If he ever left on his own accord because he didn't want her to see him recover or whatever bullshit that would possess him to walk out on her, she had a feeling it would be like the pain of Jack leaving but tenfold. It would destroy her.

But more importantly, him leaving meant that he would be alone to face his demons. He would confront them one on one, weakened in defenses. He would lose the battle. He wouldn't have her as a cover, and his lack of protection would ultimately be his demise.

He wouldn't stay for himself, so she didn't tell him how much it would break him if he left. Instead, she turned the tables, telling him to stay for her. Whatever she had to do to get him to stay, she would do it. And if that meant pulling the guilt card on his selfless ass, then she was going to try her damnedest to use it to the best of her ability.

"Kens..." he comforted, tucking her hair behind her ear, smoothing it back. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why did you even... Why would you say that? Please, Deeks..."

"I'm right here, Kens." Her reassurances sounded better on his lips then they had on hers when she'd told him the same thing mere minutes earlier. "Right here. I'm not leaving."

She let him hold her, laying still. She couldn't get to sleep, her eyes remaining trained on the dark ceiling, gaze unwavering.

That night was the night that she decided she wasn't allowing Deeks to drift any further away from her. As much as he despised the idea of therapy, she pleaded with him for hours, begged him to let her call a psychologist. Finally, after many pouted lips, bribes, and pleas on Kensi's part, he relented.

And so the roller coaster began.

* * *

Patience, though hard to maintain, was the only thing Kensi and Deeks could rely on. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, he made improvement. Starting out small, he relapsed into doing little things that Deeks use to do pre-tragedy, like obsessively cleaning and getting up insanely early. His cheekiness, athleticism, and easy smile returned, his face relatively free of the demons that had previously haunted him. And, to top it all off, once he started working out and eating regularly, he looked more like the man who had went undercover nearly two and a half years prior. With the looks came the cocky, which she would never admittedly tell him that she had missed.

He still didn't talk to her about the fifteen months of hell he'd miraculously survived. She didn't push him, but she was ready to listen if need be.

In the end, everything they'd been through made them closer then they were to begin with, something she wouldn't have thought possible.

Walking down the near empty expanse of sand that spread the length of the beach, Deeks reached for her hand, Monty trotting behind them. The old dog's spirit had improved significantly, and he hardly left Deeks' side.

Waves lapped over each other lazily, the sun hung low over the horizon. Sea water, alight with an orange glow, dampened Kensi's bare feet. She cast Deeks a sideways glance, an inquiry on her lips. "No board?"

"Not today," he said, shaking his head a little. He moved from her hand to her waist, pulling her tight with his arm around her lower back.

He seemed quieter, but not in the loaded way that was usually accompanied with awful memories. It was almost like he was reflecting, lost in thoughts that were neither happy, scary, or sad.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, eyeing the halo of gold the setting sun had placed on his blond locks.

"No, it's just-" He stopped himself, pausing mid-sentence. They'd stopped walking now, standing in front of the gilded ocean. "Actually, yeah. There is."

He lowered himself onto one knee, and it was so unforeseen that Kensi's mouth stood agape, her face an expression of disbelief.

"You've been there for me as a partner, as a friend, as somebody to fall back on. You saved me. I loved you before, but I love you even more now. Kensi, will you marry me?"

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering her smile. She nodded, unable to form a single coherent word. And after he slipped the ring on her finger and stood, she launched herself into his arms, him pulling her closer by reflex, picking her up and spinning her around.

The ring was just as beautiful as she remembered it, even prettier in the light. She'd taken it off when they'd found Deeks, not wanting him to have to ask for it back if he decided he didn't want to be with her after everything that had happened. She'd put it in his apartment, partially because it made sense that someone would've cleaned out the desk after all of the time that had passed and partially because she hadn't had time to return to OSP.

"Yes," she finally answered, her voice muffled by his shirt.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her. Her heart was beating fast, hammering against her chest. Though they'd been together for, counting before, during, and after his abduction, nearly three and a half years, she had not been expecting a proposal anytime soon.

"Betcha didn't see that one coming," he said, smile still plastered on his face. It was always an ego boost when he could knock steadfast Kensi Blye off of her feet.

"Okay, I'll give you that one."

"Just that one? Come on. You gotta give me props. I mean, killer venue, luxury ring, beautiful speech, beautiful _me_-"

She rolled her eyes, lightly shoving his chest. "And to think, I get to deal with this everyday for the rest of my life."

Secretly, what she'd just said was more appealing than she cared to admit.

* * *

**A/n Haha, when I said angst, I just meant he wouldn't be the same and they'd have to deal with it.  
Thanks to Maddie! Couldn't have done it without her!  
You guys were amazing and ya'll's support was more than I could've asked for. Thanks so much!  
****With that type of finale, expect a few one or two shots pertaining to 4x24 (I can't refrain myself from a little more angst, but can you blame me after a cliff hanger like THAT? Shane Brennan is an evil, evil man), so if this type of story was your thing, keep an eye out!  
XOXO-****  
**

**Cierra**


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